"Why do you not like your mother?" He asks, carefully spilling the words. I stare at him blankly and slowly feel a sudden powerful irritation pervade my mood.
"That's a very bold assumption to make about an almost stranger."
"I'm sorry I didn't mean for it to be rude," he explains what seems genuinely.
"But you just can't help it, can you?" I say with a sarcastic laugh.
"You know I'm not wrong. Don't tell me that you don't feel that way," he says and he's right. But that doesn't mean he has any business pointing it out. I let out a deep breath.
"I really don't want to discuss my parental conflicts with you," I tell him with a decisive tone.
Something changes in him. "I'm very sorry. I shouldn't be so intrusive I know but like you said, I can't help it. I want to know you. The emotion
