Page 106
Story: Fake Married to the Grumps
"Hey," Marissa replies, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
I force a smile onto my face, trying to lighten the mood. "It's okay," I say, my voice strained with tension. "I was just reviewing my lines."
Marissa nods, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Yeah, I saw," she says softly, her voice tinged with nervousness. "I was just wondering if you needed a drink."
"Yes. Thank you."
We stand there in awkward silence for a moment, the air thick with tension as we struggle to find something to say. But before either of us can speak, the sound of someone calling my name breaks the spell, and I turn to see one of the crew members waving me over.
"I should go," I say quickly, my voice tinged with relief. "I'll see you later."
Marissa nods, her gaze dropping to the floor as she mumbles goodbye. And then, without another word, I stand up and head back to the scene, eager to escape the suffocating weight of the awkwardness between us.
But even as I throw myself into my work, I can't shake the feeling of unease that lingers in the back of my mind.
What happened between Marissa and me was more than just a kiss, and I can't help but wonder what it means for our friendship.
Part of me is scared that she may no longer feel the same way about me, that our friendship may be irreparably damaged. But another part of me is terrified that she may still feel the same way about me, that I may not be able to live up to her expectations.
I know I'm not good enough for her, that she deserves someone who can give her the world. But no matter how hard I try to push her away, I can't shake the feeling that she's the one I've been searching for all along.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.
***
Visiting my parents is always a daunting task, but after Marissa's talk about family, I felt strangely compelled to reconnect with them. So, I steel myself for the inevitable awkwardness and make my way to the home where I grew up.
The more I pondered on Marissa’s words, the more I realized I deserved to find some peace.
To my surprise, my parents greet me with open arms, their faces lighting up with genuine joy at my unexpected visit. "Bryce, it's so good to see you," my mother says, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Yeah," my father adds, clapping me on the back awkwardly as he ushers me inside.
We sit down at the table together, the atmosphere tinged with nervous tension as we struggle to find common ground. But as we eat, the tension slowly melts away, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity.
"I'm sorry, Bryce," my mother says suddenly, her voice crammed with remorse. "I know we haven't always been the best parents to you."
A lump forms in my throat at her words, a surge of emotion washing over me at the sincerity in her voice. "It's okay, Mom," I say softly, reaching out to take her hand in mine.
My father nods, his expression grave as he looks me in the eye. "We were wrong, and we’re sorry," he says firmly. "We shouldhave supported you more, instead of trying to force you down a path you didn't want to take."
Shock doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. I never thought I’d see the day my father, of all people, apologize. I'm flabbergasted at his sudden change in attitude.
My father sighs, his gaze dropping to the table as he struggles to find the right words. "Not everyone must follow the same path. And I admire your resilience, Bryce, and I'm proud of how much you've accomplished."
A swell of emotion rises within me at his words, a sense of pride and validation washing over me. "Thank you, Dad," I say softly, my voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
My mother reaches out to squeeze my hand, her eyes filled with tears. "We just want you to be happy, Bryce," she says softly. "But I'm surprised that you came."
"It was Marissa."
"Oh. She's obviously been a good influence on you," my dad says.
"I agree. And if Marissa makes you happy, then we're happy too," my mom adds.
Tears prick my eyes, but I battle to hold them back. This is all I've always wanted, for my parents to truly see me for who I am and not some make believe son they wanted.
"Thank you, Mom. That means more to me than you'll ever know."
I force a smile onto my face, trying to lighten the mood. "It's okay," I say, my voice strained with tension. "I was just reviewing my lines."
Marissa nods, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Yeah, I saw," she says softly, her voice tinged with nervousness. "I was just wondering if you needed a drink."
"Yes. Thank you."
We stand there in awkward silence for a moment, the air thick with tension as we struggle to find something to say. But before either of us can speak, the sound of someone calling my name breaks the spell, and I turn to see one of the crew members waving me over.
"I should go," I say quickly, my voice tinged with relief. "I'll see you later."
Marissa nods, her gaze dropping to the floor as she mumbles goodbye. And then, without another word, I stand up and head back to the scene, eager to escape the suffocating weight of the awkwardness between us.
But even as I throw myself into my work, I can't shake the feeling of unease that lingers in the back of my mind.
What happened between Marissa and me was more than just a kiss, and I can't help but wonder what it means for our friendship.
Part of me is scared that she may no longer feel the same way about me, that our friendship may be irreparably damaged. But another part of me is terrified that she may still feel the same way about me, that I may not be able to live up to her expectations.
I know I'm not good enough for her, that she deserves someone who can give her the world. But no matter how hard I try to push her away, I can't shake the feeling that she's the one I've been searching for all along.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.
***
Visiting my parents is always a daunting task, but after Marissa's talk about family, I felt strangely compelled to reconnect with them. So, I steel myself for the inevitable awkwardness and make my way to the home where I grew up.
The more I pondered on Marissa’s words, the more I realized I deserved to find some peace.
To my surprise, my parents greet me with open arms, their faces lighting up with genuine joy at my unexpected visit. "Bryce, it's so good to see you," my mother says, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Yeah," my father adds, clapping me on the back awkwardly as he ushers me inside.
We sit down at the table together, the atmosphere tinged with nervous tension as we struggle to find common ground. But as we eat, the tension slowly melts away, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity.
"I'm sorry, Bryce," my mother says suddenly, her voice crammed with remorse. "I know we haven't always been the best parents to you."
A lump forms in my throat at her words, a surge of emotion washing over me at the sincerity in her voice. "It's okay, Mom," I say softly, reaching out to take her hand in mine.
My father nods, his expression grave as he looks me in the eye. "We were wrong, and we’re sorry," he says firmly. "We shouldhave supported you more, instead of trying to force you down a path you didn't want to take."
Shock doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling right now. I never thought I’d see the day my father, of all people, apologize. I'm flabbergasted at his sudden change in attitude.
My father sighs, his gaze dropping to the table as he struggles to find the right words. "Not everyone must follow the same path. And I admire your resilience, Bryce, and I'm proud of how much you've accomplished."
A swell of emotion rises within me at his words, a sense of pride and validation washing over me. "Thank you, Dad," I say softly, my voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
My mother reaches out to squeeze my hand, her eyes filled with tears. "We just want you to be happy, Bryce," she says softly. "But I'm surprised that you came."
"It was Marissa."
"Oh. She's obviously been a good influence on you," my dad says.
"I agree. And if Marissa makes you happy, then we're happy too," my mom adds.
Tears prick my eyes, but I battle to hold them back. This is all I've always wanted, for my parents to truly see me for who I am and not some make believe son they wanted.
"Thank you, Mom. That means more to me than you'll ever know."
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