Chapter 214 I need you Lisa.

Chapter 214 I need you Lisa.


My stomach dropped into a freefall. The cheerful atmosphere of the restaurant completely dissolved. I slid into the leather booth across from them, my eyes darting from my father’s stony, unyielding face to my mother’s stiff, guarded posture.

"Get what over with?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave, filled with immediate suspicion. "What is going on? Why are we here?"

My mother swallowed hard, her hand reaching out to touch the stem of her untouched wine glass. She didn't look at my father. She kept her eyes locked on her own hands.

"Your father and I... we needed a quiet, neutral place to speak with you," she began softly, her voice wavering for a fraction of a second before she forced it back into a cold, steady rhythm. "We didn't want to have this conversation at home."

"What conversation?" I pressed, my chest tightening until it was hard to draw a full breath. 
"Dad? What is she talking about?"

My father leaned his forearms on the white tablecloth, looking at me straight in the eyes. There was no hesitation in his expression. No regret. Just absolute, ruthless finality.

"Your mother and I are filing for divorce," he stated bluntly. "The papers were finalized by our legal teams this afternoon."

The words hit me like a physical punch straight to the gut. The low murmur of the restaurant, everything vanished. My mind went completely blank.

"What?" I whispered, the word barely tearing past my throat. "Divorce? What are you talking about?"

"It’s been over for a very long time, Tobias," my father continued smoothly, as if he were delivering a financial report at a board meeting. "We delayed the process because of your accident and your recovery, but we cannot prolong the inevitable any longer. The house will be put up for sale next month. I’m moving into the downtown penthouse permanently, and your mother will be taking the estate in the valley."

"No," I said, shaking my head rapidly, my hands clenching into hard fists on top of the table. "No, wait a minute! You can't just... you can't just sit here in some expensive restaurant and tell me our family is over! What about therapy? What about working it out? You’ve been married for twenty years!"

"Tobias, please," my mother cut in quietly. She didn't let a single tear slip past her eyelashes. Her face remained a frozen mask of stoic acceptance, though her fingers clutched her shawl so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Listen to your father. This is for the best. We have tried. We have been miserable for years, and staying together is doing more harm than good. You’re almost an adult now. You’re going to college soon—"

"Don't use my college as an excuse!" I snapped, my voice rising loud enough that a couple at the neighboring table turned to look. I didn't care. 

My blood was boiling, a toxic mix of white-hot anger and crushing heartache tearing through my ribs. "You waited until I got myself back just to destroy everything else? Is that what this is?!"

"Mind your tone, Tobias," my father warned, his dark eyes narrowing sharply. "This decision is final. The assets are divided. The arrangements are made. We brought you here out of respect to inform you as an adult. I expect you to conduct yourself like one."

Respect.

The word felt like acid on my tongue. I looked at my father—cool, calculated, completely unfazed by the destruction of his own home. I looked at my mother—cold, silent, refusing to fight for a single piece of what we used to be.

They weren't a family. They were two strangers dividing up property over a three-course meal.

A wave of suffocating nausea washed over me. I couldn't sit in this booth for another second. I couldn't look at their fake, pristine faces while my whole world shattered into jagged pieces around my feet.

"Tobias, sit back down," my father commanded, his voice dropping into that stern, authorative tone he always used when he wanted control. "We still need to discuss your living arrangements for the remainder of the semester—"

I didn't let him finish.

I shoved myself out of the booth, my chair scraping loudly against the polished hardwood floor.

"Keep the arrangements," I spat, staring down at both of them with raw, burning fury. "Keep the penthouse. Keep the house. Keep all of it."

"Tobias!" my mother called out, her cold facade cracking for the briefest second, a flash of genuine panic washing over her eyes as she half-stood from her seat. "Tobias, stop!"

I turned my back on them.

I stormed down the carpeted aisle, pushing past the host stand, shoving the heavy glass doors open, and bursting out into the cool night air.

The cold wind slapped my face, but it did nothing to put out the fire raging inside my chest. I walked blindly down the sidewalk, my lungs burning, my heart pounding against my ribs like a caged animal. Every breath felt ragged. Every thought felt like a blade.

My home was gone. My family was broken. The people who were supposed to protect me were tearing everything down, and I felt completely, utterly alone in the dark.

I reached my car, leaning heavy against the driver's side door, my hands trembling violently as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

My screen blurred as I unlocked it, my thumb frantically scrolling past every contact, past my team, past my coach, straight to the only person in the world who felt real. The only person who held my heart in her hands.

My fingers shook as I typed out the message, my chest heaving with a broken, desperate sigh.

Tobias: I need you, Lisa. Please.