"Sorry, my mom kept nagging me to eat breakfast." I unbutton my t-shirt, kicking off my shoes as I feel the need to lay down for a bit. Being back at my parent's house has been a rollercoaster of emotion, and stress.

I put my phone on the nightstand, Ivy's back to me. "How'd it go with my dad?" I ask, changing into something more comfortable. I'm not sure why my parents demand formality at breakfast. It reminds me of just how annoying it was when I was younger.

And as I walk toward my bed, I realise she still hasn't responded. "How'd it go with my dad?" I ask again.

"What else are you hiding from me, Aaron?" Ivy's voice is chopped, and angry-sounding. Still on the other side of the room, I stand there, staring at the back of her head.

"What do you mean?"

"Were you planning on telling me?" She's being very vague, but I think she's talking about how I never told her I wanted to pursue music. Maybe she's upset about how my parents are acting.

I walk towards the bed, wanting to comfort her in any way I can. "I thought I could tell you anything." She turns her head toward me, eyes red-rimmed, and looking into mine. I stop in my tracks, legs suddenly too heavy to move.

"Why didn't you tell me about my dad? About him having a family?" She gets up, and walks toward me. "Did I tell you to research him? And I have to reconcile with him to be good enough for you, and your family? I thought you'd understand why I don't talk to him anymore. You of all people..."

She laughs, almost in her own misery as she waits for me to come up with words to explain all this. "I wanted to tell you-"

"If you really wanted to, I wouldn't have found out from your fucking dad, Aaron."