Goodbye, Ilyan
"What do you mean?" Perturbed by taking in her words that she had thought were inaudible to him, he pondered over them until he caught her heaving a sigh and he dropped the topic almost instantly. "It's fine if you don't want to -"
"It's nothing, Ilyan…" Irene moved her head to shrug off the bit that their conversation was touching. Not that... letting him know that she suspected that what had happened back there in the restaurant was probably going to happen often going to make a difference. It would have only made him feel more miserable than he was already feeling. It was going to serve no purpose, she knew.
"That aside…" she shifted in her place, at the edge of her chair, "are you okay? You don't look well to me."
Ilyan expelled his breath in an exasperated sigh. "Mom… got to know that Dad told me about..."
"And she is upset?" Irene's lips pursed together as his words managed to pull her into their sad zone.