The Reason I Keep Avoiding My Childhood Friend

“Yes, that’s how you can go see your father.”

I can go see my father? Uncle Holt said something I couldn’t understand.

A grave? Or a living father?

Hope flashed in my head.
My mouth opened.
I had too much to say but I felt out of breath and couldn’t make a sound.
It was only after taking some quick deep breaths, like a fish out of water, could I get my words out.

“Ah, is my father alive?”

Uncle Holt’s eyes widened at my straightforward question, asked in a trembling voice.
Then his expression turned apologetic.

When I looked up anxiously, Uncle Holt smiled comfortingly.

“Oh my, you must have been too shocked to hear the explanation.
Of course, he is alive.
He is being treated in the temple.
What I meant to say was that he is a little hurt.”

My father is alive.
My father… is alive. My legs gave way again and I sank back down.

“Oh god, Arendine!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

I managed to assure Uncle Holt, who looked worried.

A sense of relief spread quickly.
The news that my father was alive seemed to ease my breath.
My blurry vision gradually returned to normal.

Stupidly, I was so upset that I couldn’t hear him explain about my father being in the temple.

When the news that my father was alive properly sank in, I became emotional for a different reason.

Feeling impatient, I jumped to my feet.
Pursing my lips, I wiggled my feet with inexplicable emotion.

“Do you want to go see your father?”

Having read my feelings, Uncle Holt offered me the thing I wanted to do most.

“Yes! Let’s go.
Let’s go.”

I grabbed Uncle’s hand and urged him.
It was rude and not something I’d normally do.
But I couldn’t afford to care about that right now.

Uncle Holt opened his arms and I jumped in, not bothering to refuse.
It’ll be much faster with him carrying me rather than me walking over with my short legs.

Before leaving, Uncle Holt informed the people next to him that we were going to the temple and headed for the Grand Duke.

Right at that time, the Duke and Kirsec were looking our way.
At the Duke’s gesture, Uncle Holt did not go any further and bowed his head before turning away.

I don’t know whether he was being considerate out of guilt or because it was outside of training hours.
Either way, I was grateful for even that small concession.

Uncle Holt pulled up the horse that was about to be lead into the stable, climbed back up, and headed for the temple.

My heart fluttered as we neared the temple.
I wanted to cry, even though I should be okay since I knew that my father was alive.
I couldn’t understand these confusing feelings.

When I arrived at the temple, I became more emotional.
Uncle Holt moved familiarly and lowered me in front of a closed door.

“There you go.
Your father is inside.”

Then he took a step back.
My father is in here.
But when I reached the door, I faltered.

I only confirmed that my father was alive, without affirming how much he was hurt.
Uncle Holt might’ve explained, but I did not hear it.
So I didn’t know how my father’s condition was.

So I was scared to open the door.
When I hesitated, Mr.
Holt patted me on the back as if to tell me not to worry and to urge me on.

I opened the door and went in.
It was a spotless white room; perhaps because it was a place to recover from wounds and cleanliness was paramount.

Lying in the bed, with his eyes closed, was a familiar blunt faced man.
As if sensing my presence, my father slowly opened his eyes.

When I met that indifferent gaze, an intense sorrow surged within me.
My father’s eyes widened as he looked at me.

“Aren!”

My father called me urgently and tried to get up, holding his chest and wincing.

The sheets fell down, exposing his bandaged shoulders and chest.
Fortunately, I was fully alert, and that seemed to be all the wounds.

As soon as I saw it, I started crying even though I clenched my teeth.
In the end, I cried like a baby, making a loud ‘waaaah!’ sound.
Tears flowed out non-stop.