"Dad, it was so bizarre," I told him at dinner on Saturday as I was chaotically stirring the tomato sauce simmering on the oven. "He was so calm, like... like..."

"Like he was talking to an old friend?" he answered for me when I began floundering. My dad chuckled and then said, "I think the bigger question is why you're so freaked out, Josie."

"Because it's weird," I insisted. "It's like he's just pretending that we just casually fell out of touch."

"But... you did fall out of touch?" My dad was clearly very confused about my frustration and ranting, but still patiently listened as he checked on the garlic bread baking in the oven while I continued to monitor the sauce.

"I mean... yeah, I guess," I conceded with a shrug. "But there were months of unanswered calls, emails, texts. I tried so hard to stop our friendship from fading, but he basically ghosted me. And it's weird that he's not acknowledging that this was not a consensual falling out of touch."

"Ohh okay," he nodded his head, as if finally understanding what I was saying. "You want him to acknowledge that he hurt you."

"Maybe. But what would it even do, you know? Because it was six years ago and I'm over it, it just feels weird that it wasn't even acknowledged," I continued to try and explain how I was feeling about my interaction with Casey. I think my dad was right, as he usually was, in saying that I wanted Casey to recognize that he hurt me. This wasn't a case of two friends going to college and organically losing touch with each other. This was one friend organically losing touch with one, while the other tried for way too long to salvage a crumbling friendship as it fell through my fingers.

"Do you want an apology?"

"I... I don't know," I admitted slowly. It felt weird to say that I needed an apology for something that happened so long ago, and something that I'm not even upset about anymore.

"Honestly, Casey was a really good kid. I'm sure he still is, and I bet he has no idea how badly he hurt you when your friendship ended," my dad told me, looking over at me with his wide hazel eyes that looked so much like mine. "And I'm sure if you actually told him that you feel uncomfortable and why, you'd get a sincere apology immediately."

"I don't even know if it's worth it. Or even if it's appropriate, considering our relationship right now is purely professional," I said with a shrug. I wondered, though, if I didn't bring up the weirdness I was feeling, would this entire process be awkward between us?

"Don't burn the sauce just because you're frustrated," he quickly scolds me, leaning over the pot to investigate and then he pulled it off of the burner, onto the one beside it to cool off. "Garlic bread is ready too, let's dig in."

I had already set the small dining room table for the two of us, so we grabbed our plates and began filling them up with pasta, my mom's recipe for homemade tomato sauce, and garlic bread. The kitchen smelled amazing and garlicky, so I could feel my mouth watering.

The house my dad lived in by himself was the same house I grew up in. We lived here with my mom as one big happy family until she passed away when I was seven and then, it was just the two of us. There were two cozy bedrooms upstairs, a wide open living room next to this slightly cramped kitchen. It hadn't been redecorated since my mom passed, but I found the dated décor to be somehow comforting. I liked that it fit my dad's outdated style.

"So I have something to talk about too," my dad announced as we sat across from each other at the wooden table to eat our dinner. "I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

"Okay..." I responded slowly, feeling cautious about what he could say. He never had any exciting news, as he'd gotten comfortable in his routine of going to work, going bowling with his friends, and watching his TV shows at home.

"I met somebody," he informed me and then swallowed his bite and added. "A lady person."

"Wow, a lady person," I said with a small smile sprouting on my face. "When did this happen?"

He shrugged at me, looking like a guilty child, and then said, "A buddy of mine invited her out to go bowling with us a few weeks ago and we've been talking."

"Talking, like you're making a new friend, or am I hearing wedding bells in the future?" I asked him teasingly. The only time he'd dated since Mom died was when I was in high school and it only lasted for a couple of months. I was surprised by the news, but excited. My dad was the most important person to me and I'd do anything to see him happy. If this lady person made him happy, I was happy too.

"Kind of in the middle, I'd say," he said before taking a big bite of his steaming pasta. "I'm telling you now because she asked to meet you and I don't know if that's something you'd want to do."

"Dad, of course I want to meet her," I insisted before he'd even finished his sentence. "Don't be dumb."

"Well, I don't know. You have a lot on your plate right now, so I don't want to add to that."

I carefully spun my pasta around my fork, forming a big lump covered in the delicious sauce, and then shoved the entire thing into my mouth like a hungry bear. "Stop it, I'm not too busy to meet your lady friend."

"Her name is Diana," he added.

"What else can you tell me about this Diana?" I wondered curiously. "Must be something special if she's caught your stubborn eye."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been trying to convince you to get back out there for years, Dad," I reminded him with a laugh. "But you're always saying how you are fine on your own, you don't like living with other people anyway, blah blah blah."

"Well, she is very nice," he confirmed with a nod. "She works at a marketing agency. She's not a very good bowler though."

"Aww, you're already finding things you have in common," I teased him. Despite my dad being a really good bowler, I had beaten him a few times in the past and I always loved to bring it up. I got my competitive nature from him, so we were really able to wind each other up.

"I'm going to have to kick you out of my house if you disrespect me like that again," he responded with a hearty laugh. "I taught you everything you know."

"And now you get to teach Diana." I bit into my garlic bread just as I felt my phone vibrate with a notification in my pocket. My dad always had a strict 'no phones at the dinner table' rule though, so I ignored it.

"Did you decide if you're going to go through with meeting up with Casey again?" he changed the subject completely, probably getting too uncomfortable about talking about Diana and this newfound relationship he had.

"I don't know," I allowed the change of subject. "I kind of feel like, what's even the point if he's just going to go away again once the article is done?"

"What does Natalie think?"

"She thinks I should stay away," I informed him. "But she's very biased. She had to deal with all of my ugly crying back in college when he ditched me the first time, and probably doesn't want to have to deal with it again."

"You really think it would happen again?"

I shrugged and said, "I don't know. But if he really wanted to reconnect, why did he have to wait until something like this happened? Why not just reach out and say hi?"

"He probably didn't know how," my dad suggested.

Just like my dad didn't want to talk about Diana, I didn't want to talk about Casey anymore. I changed the subject and we instead began talking about the new episode of Peaky Blinders. Something that we could both talk about without feeling the need to pull our hair out. Well, my dad didn't have much hair left to pull out, but you get the picture.

I spent the majority of my Saturday night over at my dad's house but once it got dark, decided to head home. Getting a nine to five job meant that I was usually in bed by 10pm every night, as I couldn't function on anything less than eight hours of sleep. Sometimes, I missed my college days when Natalie and I could go out with friends until the sun started coming up. Just the thought of staying up until one in the morning now made my back ache.

Before I drove off from my dad's house, I remembered that I got a notification during dinner and once I looked at the screen, realized it was a Tinder message.

While my car started playing a true crime podcast from the speakers, I opened the message from a guy named Chris who I'd been talking to for a few days. Asking if I wanted to come over tonight. Yes, I redownloaded Tinder over the week in an attempt to distract me from the stress of my situation. Judge me all you want.

I was somewhat surprised to see that message from Chris because most of our conversation had been him telling dad jokes and me pretending like they weren't getting old. I mean, a good dad joke is usually all fun and games. But when the men on dating apps use them as a currency to get laid, they got annoying. It was like this guy thought that if he gave me enough quirky jokes, he'd earned his way into my body.

I unmatched Chris, rolled my eyes, and then I drove home.

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Song: The Harold Song- Kesha

Would be so grateful if you checked out my other story, Mad Bad and Dangerous to Know! It's my first attempt at a thriller and I'd love some feedback on it <3 Thanks love u