He should’ve known you were about to utter the most disheartening news during dinner.
I dropped out of nursing school.
There must be a reason behind this, right? He couldn’t just straight up berate you for dropping out so suddenly when you were about to finish in about four months. But he tries his best, he wracks his brain and tries to come up with possible reasons as to why and couldn’t even think of one conclusion. So why did you drop out?
“Why?” Gauging the way your expression twists uncomfortably, he already knew he wouldn’t be pleased with the response. “Because you want to pursue art? Is that it?”
A wordless nod.
He leans back against his seat, jaw tightening as he runs a frantic hand across his hair. He doesn’t get, couldn’t fathom at all. You choose passion over practicality. Passion that is so uncertain when it comes to careers — because for goodness’ sake, if he was being realistic, finding clients who could even commission you for art was difficult. Asking for a stable income was like pleading for rain to pour in a desert.
“I can’t believe this.” He sighed to himself, turning his face away from you as he attempted to remain calm. It’s proven difficult when your words keep plaguing his mind.