WTLO - Season 1: Stuck on you - Suplement 1 - Resolve
Autor: Lôa | Publicado: 2017-04-05T22:45:00-03:00



The father sighed softly from the armchair he was sitting on in his home office. Observing carefully his beloved only son, who was sitting in the chair behind the full-of-medical-books-and-reports desk, he could assimilate that the young man wasn’t better at all. The older man could read perfectly, in the slump of his son’s shoulders, the sense of defeat he was carrying around inside him.

The young man was decided. His resolve was settled and, as a mature young adult as he was, he took matters into his own hands. The father didn’t agree with his decision, but there wasn’t much he could do. He tried to talk the young man out of it. He tried to make him see that this was just an escape and not an alternative, but his son, obviously blinded by the hurt he was clearly feeling, dismissed the older man’s arguments with his characteristic clever observations. 

“Thank you, Mister Ackerley. I will discuss the arrangements with my father next, and, at the latest, tomorrow evening, I will be returning to you with the date of my arrival.” The young man spoke on the phone, in a emotionless tone, to the person on the other end of the line.

The father sighed heavily this time. His opinion on his son’s decision was stern. He was making a mistake.

The young man released a puff of air as soon as he hung up the phone. Folding one of his long arms on the desk, the one that was free of the arm sling, and soon after resting his forehead on it, he closed his eyes forcefully, trying vainly to ease the sting of the imminent tears.


“Can’t you see this is not your best move?” The father asked kindly, his voice loving as usual, even though the young man could notice the hint of disapproval underlining the older man’s tone. 

“We’ve already gone through this, dad.” The young man replied after raising, unwillingly, his head. “Please, I’m really not up for another discussion.”

“I know, son.” The father affirmed while getting up, a compassionate look in his deep blue eyes. “I just think you should sleep on it.”

“I’ve slept on it, dad. I mulled over this for two whole days…”

“Do you really believe two days are enough to make a decision that will change your entire life?” 

The two men stared at each other from across the room, the oldest clearly apprehensive, while the youngest, inherently persistent, looked obstinate.

“I’ve been considering it for way more than two days, and you know it pretty well.” The young man sounded tired despite the firmness of his statement.

After a long sigh the father, unable to stop himself, tried once more. “You wouldn’t have resorted to this if J…”

“Please, don’t.” The son, immediately realizing what the father was about to say, interrupted him with his desperate plea, standing up swiftly, before that name could come out. “I don’t want to talk about it, dad. This has nothing to do with what happened.”

The older man shook his head slowly. “This has to do with him and the fact that you cannot…”

“If you’re gonna insist on this than we can’t talk right now.” The son cut the father off once more, pushing away from the desk and walking past his parent to the door. “The papers are on the desk, I just need your signature on them.” He said while taking a hold of the knob. “We can discuss the arrangements later.” 

And that said he opened the door, ready to get out of the room.

“You know he’ll come looking for you to apologize.” He heard the father say in a matter-of-fact tone.

The son stopped on his track due to the impact of that truth. Than he took a deep breath and, without turning to the older man inside the office, exhaled forcefully while closing his eyes again.

“It won’t change anything.” He stated firmly, resolute.

The young man marched to the second floor of the house after that, afraid his father would say something more to weaken his determination. He wasn’t backing down, he made that decision consciously.

Arriving at his bedroom, he closed the door and sat on the floor behind it, easily ignoring the ache on his hand. It was so much weaker than the one in his chest…

In spite of his better judgement, the young man allowed himself to think about the immediate consequence of his resolve for a moment. Not regarding himself, since he’d already considered all the prospects that would affect him. No. He took a moment to think about how that other person would react to all that. 

He knew well how it would be… He knew that the other person would be sad and a little lost, not for long, of course, but still… So the young man, worried as he normally was when it came to that person, decided something else.

He stood up calmly, even though “calm” was not something he was feeling, and reached his bedside table to retrieve his cell phone.

The young man sighed heavily. The day was barely in the middle, but he had already called five times.

Closing his eyes for the fifth, maybe sixth time that morning, the young man contained his anxiety. He couldn’t give in, not anymore. This had been going on for far too long and had to come to a stop.

He hurriedly erased the call log and went through his contacts to find yet another number. As soon as it was located, the young man made the call.

The girl answered after the second ring, her voice guarded, though slightly surprised.

“Can we talk?” The young man asked, straight to the point.

“Sure. I’m listening.” The girl replied softly.

“In person. This is important.” 

“OK. Do you you want me to go there?”

“No need, I’ll go to you. Will you be alone tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, my parents will be at the B&amp;B.”

“Good. Is eight o’clock OK?”

“Yeah.”

“So it’s settled. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Deal. Are you OK?”

The young man hesitated for a split second.

“I’m fine. I need to go.” He answered after a deep sigh.

“OK. See you then.”

After hanging up the phone, the young man hid his face in his hands, trying to suffocate his anguish. But he knew it was useless.

Just then the phone ringed beside him, the deep chords of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filling him with a dubious emotion.

The young man stared at the screen, swallowing hard as the image reminded him how he really missed that person, how he would miss that person far worse once his plan was fulfilled.

The phone went finally silent. The young man sighed again, closing his eyes once more.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered to no one. “I have to do this.”
Then silence filled the room.



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