Dad is at the reception when I approach. I don’t know why he hasn’t left yet.
"Priscilla, can I talk to you?" he asks, standing up.
I shake my head, "No."
"Come on, I’m just asking for a minute of your time. I won’t take long, I promise."
I wish he would just give up already and let me be.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Us and our past. I’m sorry, okay?"
I’ve been avoiding this conversation at all costs, but I don’t think I can keep running from it.
"There’s really a lot to talk about, Dad. I mean, should I start?" I raise my voice, and a few passersby turn to look at us.
"Let me take you out for lunch, and we can talk it all, I promise," he says quietly.
"I don’t think my schedule will allow it. My boyfriend is actually waiting for me out there, so if you don’t mind, I need
