It was one of those headaches that felt like his brain was breathing, expanding against the skull, searching for a weak point where the grey matter could start to ooze out. Calvin would incorrectly diagnose it as a symptom of his hangover.

He soldiered on, feeling motivated despite how terrible he felt. Perhaps it was a function of spending so much time in his childhood home. It felt as if he had unwittingly reverted back to his factory settings. There was a certain comfort he felt in letting his brain go into autopilot, able to complete the same routine he had done every day when he was younger.

When he finally walked into the kitchen, groomed, dressed, his bed made, and room tidy, he was surprised to see his father still drinking his coffee at the table. Calvin nodded to him, and went to the coffee pot himself.

“Late night?” His father sat at the head of their oval table, not looking up from his paper.

Calvin grunted his assent. When he sat down at the table, he felt his stomach lurch. The nausea was caused by the hangover.

“Will you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?”

Calvin looked at the wall of newsprint in front of him. “No, I’ll call a cab. Or maybe…”

His father finally lowered the newspaper, the crease down the middle dipping low enough to show his face. Calvin had always been described as the spitting image of his father, and as he had grown up, it had proven to be true. His father would age out of one look, and before long, Calvin grew into it.

“I was thinking that maybe I could stay a bit longer.”

His father folded the newspaper and placed it on the table. “How long are you thinking?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

It was a good question, one that Calvin was still trying to figure out. He wasn’t sure why he was asking to stay. Maybe this was what people called intuition. Whatever it was, Calvin had already said it, and he did not want to immediately take it back.

“A week? I have a lot of time off from work.”

His father put his hand on top of the folded newspaper. It looked like he was trying to draw power from the pages. “Is everything ok?”

Calvin knew that the question was close to rhetorical. As long as he wasn’t about to burn the house down, his father was just asking to be polite.

“Everything is fine.” The words had the bitter taste of a lie. He finished his coffee, and leaving his father there, who was more than happy to return to his paper.

It was a sunny day, warmer than usual for this late in the season. Taking a moment to consider what he was planning on doing, not only today, but for the rest of the week, Calvin made a quick decision to go on a walk and at least enjoy the weather.

As he stepped out into the light of day, he reflected on what happened the night before. Not much was going well on this trip home. Was that why he was staying? He quickly scanned the street. It might be ridiculous, but he wanted to be sure that he didn’t accidentally run into Clara. Neither she, nor anyone else was around.

Where should he go? The warm air was inviting but he was distracted. He wasn’t sure he had made the right decision last night. Wasn’t getting back together with Clara what he had been yearning for? Was yearning the right word? Doesn’t that denote that he is unhappy? And he is happy. Isn’t he?

His feet, like impatient children tired of waiting for their parent, pulled him out to the sidewalk. With each step, he tried to reassure himself that he had just been rational. And yet, the argument that he had been rational no longer held as much weight as it normally did. But the alternative was to be ruled by his emotions, and that seemed dangerous.

It had been the right decision to stay. There was too much unresolved here, and he couldn’t risk that chaos leaking into his everyday life. As he rounded the corner, he looked back behind him, and realized that he didn’t recognize his street.

How much time had passed? The sun was nearly setting, and he shivered as the air grew colder. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. Looking down the block, he saw that he was on her block. He could see her house from here. But he didn’t see her. The streets were as deserted here as they had been at his own house. Then Calvin made the fastest decision he had made all day, as he turned and ran.