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The proposal

The coffee was placed on top of the table in front of us but one of us made a move to take our own. We had a staring contest. I was trying to figure out what the old man was thinking and he was trying to figure out if I knew what he was planning.

He chuckled to ease the tension that had settled in the air and took his coffee from the table.

“ How is married life? “ He asked, making me scoff.

“ You don’t care about that. I think that you secretly want it to fail so that I can come crawling back into your arms, father. “

He grimaced at the use of the word father but he didn’t address it. Not like he usually did. He was getting used to my jabs.

Or maybe he wanted to ease my mood for the terrible thing he wanted to say.

“ Why would I want that, dearest? “ He asked.

“ What are you planning? I can see it in your eyes, Jonathan. You’re scheming. “ I told him.

“ You always think the worst of me. Do you remember that time I told you you were going to be a better mafia queen than your mother?
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