If my father hadn't been strong enough, brave enough, he'd be the one buried in a grave right now.
He wouldn't have escaped abroad and built a life worth living.
And now, with a single careless sentence, she dismissed everything my father had fought to survive.
The worst part was that the knife she wielded had been handed to her by the man I used to be, the one who'd loved Ida Matthews with his whole heart.
Meeting my red, swollen eyes, Ida offered an awkward explanation.
"Sorry, Roland. What I meant was, you don't have to struggle the way your father did. Staying by my side is enough."
"Is that so?" I smiled suddenly, looking her straight in the eye.
Ida held my gaze. Something tightened in her chest without reason, but she didn't examine it. She assumed I was ready to make up.
She nodded eagerly, her voice sure. "Of course. Roland, you just have to trust me the way you used to."
I laughed coldly inside but let nothing show.
That was when my phone buzzed.
I looked up at her and said calmly, "My car's here. Ida, go take care of your work."
"Okay."
She still hadn't noticed anything off. She even walked me to the door, considerate as ever.
Before I got in the car, I called her name.
"Hmm?"