''I-''
''We-''
We both chuckle as the smell of brewed coffee and confectionaries hits our face. There are many ways this conversation can go, worst case scenario, the ship sinks before it has the chance to sail. Jason is seated across from me on the dark leather chair, the mahogany table putting a little bit of distance between us. Jason is nervous, I can tell. He's playing with his hands, his eyes are twitching and he keeps tapping his feet.
''You first,'' I answer as I take a sip of my soy latte. ''It's only fair.''
He nods. ''Alright. My mum said she talked to you.''
I also nod. ''She did.'' And spilled her guts out while crying. Heather Blunt, at least from the pictures I've seen, always looks so prim, proper and incapable of shedding a single tear. All humans cry, but I just never expected the waterworks from her.
''She told me everything that happened with your dad.''
Boom. There it is. I knew my assumption was correct.
