I took my fork and knife and cut up my chicken as I proceeded to answer his question.
"I like to eat maybe. So you should know that by now Mr. Mu," I said.
He shook his head.
"Yes, it was a dumb question to ask?" He answer as he asked me back.
"Actually, I had a rough childhood and let's just say nobody was there to help me." His eyes never left mine so he listened to every word I said closely.
"What about your parents? They did not help you?" He asked.
I looked down and away from him, trying to find the right words.
"Hm. My mother died of cancer when I was six, and my father was an alcoholic who passed away right before my eighteenth birthday." I reveal my things.
The look on his face changed, it went from hard to soft in a matter of seconds.
"Is that why you helped me last night because you think I'm an alcoholic?" he asked.
So I took the last bite of my dinner and set down my fork.
