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Footsteps approached, resonating through the quietude.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

His tone was a mix of confidence and uncertainty.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s the anniversary.” Josh said. “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

With an audible exhale, I stood upright. The tension hung heavy with apparent discomfort.

“I’m fine.”

He scoffed.

“We’ve been hearing that for a year.”

My brows furrowed in growing frustration.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

“Asher-”

“I said I’m fine.”

It was a tense interaction. Each word turned the conversation into a battle of strained communication.

“He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“Well, it’s too bad that changes nothing.”

A sharp edge of frustration punctuated my words.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it.” He said. “I just wanted to help.”

“You’re not helping!”

Emotions surged like a turbulent river. The air crackled with tension as his lips curled into a scowl.

“Get over yourself,” Joshua said. “You make everything about yourself, and the one time I agree with you, you get defensive.”

“I’m sorry that for once, this isn’t the Joshua Hart show.”

His nostrils flared.

“You think I came all the way here to make this about me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

The veins on his forehead pulsed. His set jaw and narrowed eyes simmered in intensity.

“You think it’s easy being me?” He asked. “I will gladly trade places with you.”

“It must be so hard being the perfect son.” I said. “Poor you.”

Anger etched lines on his face.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a screwup, I wouldn’t have to work hard to be the better son.”