Chapter 5 Stranger But Not

There's an annoying and frustrating feeling when we have to face things we dislike too often. There's a desire to scream to release all that frustration. But sometimes, doubts creep in when we want to let it all out. We hesitate. We're scared. Scared that our feelings might hurt someone else's heart.

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I still have three days before starting my temporary job, but Mr. Hugo unexpectedly gave me a day off. How unusual.

And here I am now, lounging in front of the TV, filling my free time at home by watching DVDs or my favorite shows.

I should feel happy, since I rarely get so much free time because of work. But why am I feeling so bored in this situation? Ahh... it's just human nature to always want more.

Maybe that's what's happening to me. Is this a syndrome? No. Maybe a virus? Of course not.

I could say that's just how humans are-never satisfied and sometimes ungrateful.

Okay... let's ignore that boring rant.

I lay back on the couch, letting the TV keep playing, but my eyes were definitely not focused on the show anymore.

When I get this bored, even my favorite movies or shows seem ordinary and uninteresting.

Sleepiness began to take over. I yawned several times, and within ten minutes, I started to doze off, trying to catch some sweet dreams in the middle of the day.

But... not five minutes into my nap, someone's voice and a few pats on my back woke me up, ruining my chance to dream.

"Alli... wake up!" I faintly heard my mom's gentle voice trying to rouse me. So she was the culprit. I couldn't complain or even scold her, I might get scolded back or get a playful smack on the head.

"I wants to talk to you," Mom added, sounding serious.

From her tone, it seemed like there was something really important she wanted to discuss.

Let's hope it's not about that matchmaking plan they mentioned the other day. Slowly, I began to open my eyes and try to wake up completely.

"What's up, Mom?" I asked, sounding a bit sluggish-not because I was lazy, but because I was still sleepy.

"Your Dad and I want to go to lunch out. Do you want to join us?" Mom's spontaneous suggestion made my ears perk up.

"Lunch out?! Why didn't you say so earlier? I'll get ready!" With newfound enthusiasm, I quickly headed to my room to prepare.

My sleepiness vanished as soon as Mom suggested lunch out. I wondered what had gotten into my parents today, deciding to lunch out.

Maybe they felt sorry for their youngest child, who was almost dying of boredom after staying home all day. Or... could there be other reasons?

Who knows... what matters is that I'm feeling pretty happy right now.

After about a 30-minute drive, we arrived at a five-star restaurant with a European ambiance that looked very luxurious.

I even asked Dad a dozen times, "Are we really having lunch here? You're not mistaken, right? This isn't a joke?"

Yeah, that's pretty much the random questions I asked in the parking lot. And Dad's answer was always the same.

"No."

I still couldn't believe we were actually here. The restaurant, with its interior dominated by bone white and gold accents, was truly breathtaking.

The space was spacious, very spacious, and arranged neatly. The deep black tables and chairs contrasted beautifully with the decor.

Honestly, this was my first time here. I'm not used to dining in such luxurious places, I prefer casual spots where the food is good and my stomach agrees.

Well... honestly, it's also because I can't really afford it. But... if I wanted to, I could spend all my savings just to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience eating here. But no... I won't do that. I'm not stingy, I'm just not used to it. You know what I mean, right? Of course, you do.

Like me, my parents feel the same. They've never had any desire to eat in such places.

They feel out of place dining here, it just doesn't seem right for middle-class folks to be in a fancy restaurant. It's not that they're stingy, they're just being realistic.

But if you ask me, the most reasonable explanation is that they prefer streetfood over haute cuisine.

So the question is, why are we here? That question keeps circling in my mind.

Honestly, ever since we left home, I noticed them exchanging glances and smiles.

What's going on? Are they planning to celebrate an anniversary with me, their heartbroken child, as the audience?

But... as far as I remember, they celebrated two months ago.

A well-dressed waitress approached us and led us to our table. Believe it or not, it seemed we got a very special table, in my opinion.

A table that faced the restaurant's flower garden directly. This was the only table that had a direct view of the garden. Isn't it fair to call it special? Could it be that Dad and Mom made a reservation? I don't think so.

Considering they've never shown interest in eating in such a place.

Just as I settled in, even before my seat had warmed up, a waitress came by with an appetizer. Surprised? Of course. Because we hadn't even ordered yet, not even seen the menu.

"Excuse me, did you bring this to the wrong table? We haven't ordered yet," I said, confused.

"No, Mrs, this is indeed an order for this table. Our owner requested it personally."

Her answer didn't clear things up, it just made me more puzzled. What kind of restaurant lets the owner choose the orders? Strange.

"Owner?" I asked, my brow furrowed.

"Yes, Mrs. So please enjoy your meal."

Once the waitress left, I turned to my parents, who I was sure had some explaining to do. The atmosphere felt increasingly strange.

"You guys aren't hiding something from me, are you?"

"Hiding what? You're being ridiculous. Let's eat," Mom replied, seemingly wanting to change the subject.

"Do you and Dad know the owner of this restaurant?" I asked, eager to find out, since it seemed unlikely that the owner would ask their staff to do this without knowing my parents.

"Mr and Mrs Xanders, sorry for waiting so long.""

It wasn't my parents answering, it was someone in formal attire approaching us with a friendly demeanor.

"Excuse me, who are you?" I asked, scrutinizing him.

"Long time no see, Allison."

Instead of answering my question, he just flashed an annoying smile. How does he know my name? Did Mom and Dad tell him?

But, wait a minute...

The more I looked at his face, the more familiar he seemed. Who is he???

"Allison, this is Draco. You remember him, right?" Dad asked, trying to confirm.

I didn't answer immediately, my brain was busy trying to remember who he was. Draco? Come on, Alli, think again.

My eyes widened as I finally recalled a name. Yes... I remember him. I know him. And I... hate him. He's Draco Valentino, someone I've labeled as a stranger in my memory.

But why is he suddenly here?

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