Chapter 5
1050 Words
The judge’s office was still echoing in Drake’s head as he drove back to the city. Leandro had actually gone through with it. He married a complete stranger in sheer desperation. Drake didn’t know whether to laugh or shake his friend until sense returned.
By the time he reached his office, exhaustion tugged at him again. He just wanted to grab the files Gary had mentioned, head home, and bury himself in silence.
But silence never lasted long in his world.
The door to his office burst open, and in strutted Cheska, high heels clicking, smile plastered, perfume strong enough to suffocate a small room. Without so much as a hello, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.
Drake kissed her back out of habit, though his mind was already elsewhere. When they broke apart, she giggled breathlessly. “Oh, babe, I miss you so much! You missed me too, right?”
Drake peeled her arms away and sighed. “You’re still the same, Cheska. I almost forgot we even had plans.”
She pouted dramatically, then clung to his arm again. “Then let’s go out! Dinner? Just us, like the old times?”
“Fine,” he said flatly, gathering his papers.
Her eyes lit up like he’d handed her the stars. “I knew it! You still love me!”
Drake didn’t bother correcting her, not yet. He’d do it tonight. He was tired of her clinginess, her assumptions, her fantasies of a future with him. Better to cut the thread now than let her keep weaving an illusion.
They went to a restaurant not far from the office. The food arrived quickly, but the conversation dragged. Cheska talked about her day, about shopping, about friends he didn’t care to know. Drake nodded occasionally, sipping his wine, mind already rehearsing the words he needed to say.
Finally, he put down his fork. “Cheska, we need to talk.”
She leaned forward eagerly. “I know what you’re about to say, babe. And my answer is yes. A thousand times, yes! Of course, I’ll marry you!”
Drake froze. The wine nearly slipped from his hand.
Cheska squealed, drawing curious glances from other tables. She stood and hugged him tightly. “I knew it! I knew you loved me too!”
“Cheska,” Drake said firmly, prying her arms off. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not proposing. I’m ending this.”
Her smile collapsed. “What?”
“I’m done. We’re over. Whatever this was, it ends tonight. Don’t come to my office again. Don’t wait for calls that will never come. I don’t want you disturbing me anymore.”
Her face twisted, first in disbelief, then in rage. “No! You can’t just do this! Do you think I’m that easy to discard? I won’t allow it!”
Drake stood, tossing his napkin onto the table. “It’s not about allowance. It’s reality. Goodbye, Cheska.”
She shrieked after him, her voice cracking. “You’re an ash*le! The worst of the worst! I hate you!”
A heel went flying across the restaurant floor, landing near his feet. He didn’t look back. He just kept walking, leaving behind the chaos.
One less headache.
By the time he arrived home, night had settled over the city. Drake loosened his tie, finally ready for silence, only to be greeted by a chorus of voices the moment he opened the door.
“Surprise, son!”
He froze. Standing in his living room were his parents: Miranda, his glamorous yet affectionate mother, and Alexander, his ever-proud father.
“Damn, Ma, Pa! What are you doing here? I thought you were still abroad!”
“We wanted to surprise you,” Miranda said, beaming as she threw her arms around him. “Aren’t you happy to see us?”
“Of course,” Drake said, hugging her back. “I just didn’t expect it. I miss you both.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind dinner.” His father patted his shoulder firmly.
Miranda tugged him toward the dining room, where an impressive spread of his favorite dishes waited. She practically spoon-fed him herself, glowing with maternal pride. “I cooked everything. You must be sick of takeout food by now.”
“Thanks, Ma,” Drake said with a rare smile.
Over dinner, the conversation shifted, inevitably, to the one topic he hated most.
“So, son,” Alexander began casually, “when are you planning to get married?”
Drake froze with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Seriously, Pa? We’re doing this now?”
His mother leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been seen with so many women. Not one of them special enough to introduce to us? Or maybe you’re gay?”
“Ma!” Drake choked on his wine. “Really?”
Alexander chuckled but pressed on. “We’re serious, son. You’re not getting any younger. Look at us. We built a family, and we’re happy. Don’t you want that too? Don’t you want to give us grandchildren before we’re too old to chase them around?”
Drake dropped his fork and leaned back, exasperated. “I’ve told you before. I don’t believe in commitment. Not after what happened. I’m fine the way I am.”
Miranda’s expression softened. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for the past, Drake. It wasn’t your fault. Sooner or later, you’ll meet someone real. And when you do, don’t push her away.”
For a moment, Drake caught the concern in their eyes. It twisted something in his chest: guilt, maybe, or loneliness he refused to name.
He sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll try. If I meet someone who can actually handle me, I’ll think about it. But until then, don’t expect miracles.”
Miranda’s face lit up instantly. She hugged him tight while his father grinned.
“That’s all we ask,” Alexander said. “And when you do find her, marry her quickly. Give us a dozen grandchildren. Spread the Anderson bloodline!”
“Pa…” Drake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “One step at a time, please.”
But despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips. Parents.
- Writer
