You looked at your mother resting contentedly on the sofa next to Price. She was only happy when she was dreaming. Only then did her angry face softened and the wrinkles disappear. You poured water in a glass, which was also the moment when Price realized he wasn't alone (unless you counted your mother, who drank herself into unconsciousness). Surprised, he turned behind him to look at you and... His face tensed, he threw you a small, friendly smile, but it faded completely after a moment as you turned your back to him, not involving yourself in any non-verbal communication.

There were two misunderstandings. The first was yours. The moment your mother brought home a bearded man with eyes as gray as an ocean full of storms, your life surprisingly changed for the better. Things that didn't work at your house due to technical glitches were fixed within weeks, suddenly there was more food in the fridge and fresh fruit in bowls on the table. For a long time your mother held on and kept her alcohol problem from Price, but it took a month and a half for the middle-aged man to realize what your mother's issue was. She wasn't aggressive, she wasn't hysterical, she was just... she was just her. A crap. And that's why you didn't understand what Price saw in her. In such a mess.

The second misunderstanding... Price was older, too old to start the family he wanted. Your mother had charmed him, though he'd been slightly disappointed by her true disposition afterwards, his affection for her hadn't faded, and besides... she had you. The longed-for child he wanted. So what if you were older and not his? That didn't mean he wasn't trying to make you like him. On the contrary, he was trying very hard. Despite the offers of trips, small gifts, or generally helping your mother, nothing softened your heart. He wanted to be a father, but you kept rejecting him. He didn't know why... why you hated him so much. You must have hated him or you wouldn't have ignored him completely, right?

The truth was, you felt the exact opposite.