“You. Being like this.”
“Happy?”
“You aren’t happy,” Agata says through gritted teeth, back to slamming things around. Beto takes a glass from her hand and puts it in an over-counter cupboard, standing in front of the draining rack so she can’t pick up anything else.
When she tries to anyway, Beto folds his arms across his chest. “So, you’re selling your house? Buying one here? Because if you’re staying as long as it takes to figure this out, you’ll be waiting a really long time.”
“You will listen to your mother.”
“And you will be getting up at about five tomorrow. I have an early start. You aren’t staying here while I’m at work.”
Once again his dad bursts with fury. Beto sits at the table waiting for Aiden to reply, smiling as he watches him type.
Aiden: I’m sorry, Beto.
Beto: Wha
