Bought for him

Grateful or Hateful ?

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

"SON! IS SHE AWAKE? I WANT TO SEE IF SHE LIKES HER NEW HOME!"

Isaac Hale's voice boomed from outside, laughing.

Channelle froze on the bed, clutching Chris's black shirt, her red hair covering her terrified face. "Please... don't let him in..."

Chris Smith Hale stood in the middle of his bedroom, frozen.

His heart was beating like crazy. He didn't know what to feel.

Part of him — a dark, selfish part — wanted to say thank you. For five years, he went to Rose Café every morning at 7:15 AM. He watched her. He loved her in silence. He never had the courage to say "Hi." And now his father had done what he could never do. He had brought her to him. To his room. To his bed.

The other part of him wanted to kill his father. Because the girl he loved was crying, wearing his shirt, begging to go back to her parents' small house.

Zack looked at him. "Chris?"

The door burst open.

Isaac Hale walked in with a villain smile, holding two wine glasses.

"She is awake! Perfect!" He looked at Channelle. "Hello, Channelle. I am Isaac Hale. Welcome to my estate. You are my son's birthday gift."

Channelle cried, "I'm not a gift! I have parents! I live with my parents! They will look for me!"

Isaac just laughed and turned to his son, expecting a thank you. Expecting his son to finally talk to him like a normal father and son.

"So, son? Do you like it? Five years you stared at this waitress. Now she is yours."

Chris stared at his father. His father, who never listened. His father, who never understood.

For a second, Chris wanted to say: Thank you, Dad._

For a second, he wanted to say: I hate you, Dad._

He couldn't decide. The words were stuck in his throat. Six words was his limit. Now he needed a hundred.

Finally, he managed only three words, his voice shaking:

"Leave us alone."

Isaac's smile faded a little. Just a little. He put the wine glasses down.

"As you wish. Enjoy your gift, son. Do whatever you want with her."

He walked out.

CLICK.

The door locked from the outside.

Zack ran to it. "He locked it! The bastard locked it!"

Channelle curled up on the bed, sobbing quietly. "I want to go home to my parents... please..."

Chris slowly turned and looked at her. The girl he had loved for five years, now locked in his room because of his father's sick gift.

He didn't know if he should be grateful.

He didn't know if he should hate him.

All he knew was — she was here now. And she was scared of him.

He walked to the bed, kept his distance, sat on the far edge, and whispered the most honest thing he had ever said in his life:

"I didn't ask him to do this."

Channelle looked up at him through her tears, her green eyes meeting his grey eyes for the very first time.