Family Dinner at your house was always painful. Stuck up kids running around, nosy aunts, loud uncles, and entitled relatives. You hated it, all the drunk assholes, and stuck up comments.

You gripped the steering wheel, already wanting to turn back and go home. Alex gently took one of your hands, “Babe, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident in his eyes.

*You never told Alex much about your family, it wasn’t like your family was horrible, but they definitely weren’t great either.