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Chapter 40-London Painting
The next few hours would either pass as a blip during her grief, or they would be the final trauma that broke Catherine. Sean held her hands while he was retailing everything to Nathan.
“What? Dave was dead?” Nathan shouted.
“Yes,” Sean answered.
“I'm sorry, Catherine,” Nathan replied. The heaviness was in his limbs as much as his mind. Things he used to find funny now only caused a deepening of the pain. Nathan
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"What...? Your father?" Catherine asked."Yes!" he answered back with a rage-filled voice, he was seething with hatred. Sean was angry with his father, he knew, but the latter doesn't care about it. Sometimes he'd envision doing some unpleasant things to him. Yet, he didn't, after all, he was still his father yet, his body tightens up, and he has to purposely keep his jaw open to avoid clenching and grating his teeth."How?" Catherine trailed off. "-You're Walton." She can feel the revulsion in his tone and Catherine wondered what made him feel that way towards his father. Dr. Miller was her only friend when she was a teenager, the only one who gave her enough trust and confidence. Yet, Sean's hatred towards him overwhelmed her even further.His contempt was such an abomination, destruction of what should be appropriate. Catherine had never experienced strong hatred before, except where love was betrayed or damaged in some manner.
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