A Story A Day. Story 137 of 365: Hate.

The light passing through the slit between the curtains woke Danika up. She opened her eyes, slowly, and wondered what time it was, and whether she would still have time to go to the gym before meeting her mother. Lazily she turned around, trying not to wake up Isaac, only to remember he was not there anymore. A stab of fury went through her heart, and then sadness, an infinite and unquenchable sadness. With tears blinding her eyes, she managed to see the time on the alarm clock. She had to meet her mother in one hour, and she sure wasn't ready. She jumped out of the bed, from her side, and walked into the shower. His things where still there, she hadn't found the strength to throw them away, foolishly thinking he would come back. She showered fast, trying to avoid looking at anything that reminded her of him, and dressed up even faster.

Danika's mother was waiting for her on her car outside her daughter's apartment. The young woman jumped into the car and kissed her mother on the cheek, her wet hair tickling it. She gave her daughter a concerned look.

-How are you, Danika?

-Good.

-Are you sure?

-Yes, mom.

-Don't you want to talk about it?

-There is nothing to talk about, mom.

Her mother sighted and drove to the restaurant where they were supposed to have breakfast. She had been worried about her daughter, the way she was managing all what happened with Isaac, it was not healthy. Yet, she drove in silence, keeping her thoughts for herself.

The restaurant was a fancy one, with a big garden with tables scattered all over under the trees. The summer sun was warm, but the water fountains kept the garden fresh. The maitre sat them on a table at the end of the garden, next to a jasmine bush and under a magnolia tree. The perfume would have been overwhelming if it weren't for the soft breeze. They sat down one in front of the other, and ordered breakfast. As soon as their order arrived, Danika's mother broke the silence.

-Danika, I think you're not managing this whole thing well.

-Of course I am.- she said, starting to get cross.

-No, you're not.

-Mum, the doctor killed Isaac. And I'll hate him because of it. All my life.