I clicked on the email application and sat up, swinging my legs off the edge of the bed while I waited for my account to load. I groaned when I found my inbox cluttered with spam emails. After deleting each one, I checked to see if Chris was online, realising that we hadn't talked in over two weeks. Upon finding that he wasn't available to chat, I typed a quick email asking him how he was doing.

The rest of the afternoon passed in an uneventful blur. As I had plenty of time until Jason was scheduled to pick me up for dinner, I decided to watch a cloying romantic comedy film with Claire.

Once the sun started to set, I headed back to my bedroom and took a long, warm soak in the bathtub. The warmth of the soapy water soaked through my skin, soothing my jangled nerves. After styling my hair into soft, bouncy waves, I pulled on the outfit that I had picked out the previous day. A floral, knee-length pencil skirt, a long-sleeved black top, and a simple pair of black ballet flats suited the occasion perfectly.

Applying a light coat of lip gloss, I gave my reflection a reassuring nod. Now, all that was left to do was wait.

***

I couldn't help the way my stomach clenched with knots when the door clicked open. Thankfully, Jason rested his hand against my back in a comforting gesture that helped me control my nervousness.

"Hey, Mom," Jason smiled at the short, dark-haired woman who answered the door. 

My eyes immediately flitted to the small sprinkling of freckles across her face, identical to the ones on Jason's nose. 

"Mom, this is Leena Faye," he gestured towards me with a proud flourish. "Leena, this is my mom."

"Hi, Jase," she greeted her son. Her smile widened when her eyes landed on me. "Hello, Leena!"

"Hi, Mrs. Hunter," I smiled. 

"Come in, come in," she ushered us into her home. Her short braid swayed as she turned and called, "Brad, look who's here!"

As we walked further into the cozy flat strewn with an interesting assortment of furniture, the air got thicker with the smell of food. 

 "Dinner smells really good," I said to Jason's mother, inhaling deeply.

"Oh, thank you, dear," she said with a pleased smile. "Jase told me you're a vegetarian, so I've made a vegetable casserole. And there's apple pie for dessert."

The sound of a door opening and closing interrupted our conversation. 

Turning to Jason's mother, I said, "I hope it wasn't too much trouble for you and Mr. Hunter to have me over."

A low-pitched male voice -- an octave deeper than Jason's -- sounded from my left. 

"It wasn't any trouble at all," Jason's father said as he walked towards us.

Mr. Hunter was so tall that he made Jason's mother and me appear elfin. His shock of brown hair, greying at the temples, accentuated his over-six-feet-tall frame. There was no doubt as to which parent gave Jason his impressive stature.

"That's my dad," Jason spoke up from my side. "Dad, meet my girlfriend, Leena."

I suppressed the squeal of excitement that bubbled up from my throat when Jason referred to me as his girlfriend. 

Focus, I chided myself as I smiled at Jason's father in greeting. 

"Hello, Mr. Hunter," I said, shaking the hand that he offered me. Turning to look at both parents, I said, "Jason told me that you are professors at a university here."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Hunter suited their careers as college professors perfectly. They had kind faces with eyes that sparkled with unmistakeable wisdom and intelligence. But I could also see the tiredness that underlaid their features, the exhaustion brought on by grief and loss. 

I struggled to swallow the lump that formed in my throat when I remembered what Jason had told me about his family.

Jason's parents proceeded to tell me more about the university where they worked and their son's ambition to study environmental science. Jason's cheeks turned pink as he smiled modestly at the obvious pride in his parents' faces. 

When Mrs. Hunter inquired about my plans for college, I explained that my application process would begin in November and that I had my goal set on business management.

"Excellent choice of study," Mr. Hunter nodded in approval. Looking down at me seriously, he murmured, "Knowledge is power."

"That's my dad's . . . catchphrase, I guess," Jason explained with a laugh, his hand returning to the small of my back.

"It is the ultimate truth," his father replied matter-of-factly.

"You're going to scare her away with all that, Brad," Mrs. Hunter laughed as she shook her head at her husband. "Now, Jase, why don't you show Leena around the apartment while your dad and I get dinner ready?"

Jason took my hand and led me around the well-lit living room dominated by a coffee table stacked high with books. I stared in awe at the framed photographs of Jason and his parents that decorated the walls. Each picture was different, but they all clearly showed a happy, loving family.

"How old are you in this?" I asked, stepping closer to a picture that showed a young Jason at the beach, pointing to the sandcastle behind him with pride. 

"Eight, I think," he answered sheepishly. "My mom won't let me take these down."

"No, these photos are beautiful," I beamed without hesitation.

Reaching up on my tiptoes, I pressed a quick kiss to Jason's bashful smile.

"That's my parents' bedroom," he led me further into the house, pointing at a door off to the right. Indicating to a door a few paces away from the master bedroom, he said, "And that's Dad's study."

A big sign was attached to the door, the words 'Knowledge is power' printed on it in bold, red font.

If I hadn't been looking at Jason when he spoke, I wouldn't have caught the crestfallen expression that flickered through his handsome features. My insides twisted with sadness when the realisation hit.

"That was the nursery before, wasn't it?" I whispered, my fingers tightening around his.

Jason nodded in answer.

"Knowledge is power," I read the sign on the door after a few moments of silence.

"Dad wants to put that sign on every door in the house," Jason grinned, his mood lightening immediately. "But my mom and I won't let him."

"I think it's cool," I admitted with a laugh, thinking back to the impersonal paintings and ugly, expensive showpieces in my flat in London.

"Don't tell my dad that," he laughed, winking.

Before I had a chance to see Jason's bedroom, Mr. Hunter's voice rang out, calling us both to dinner. Within the next two minutes, Jason, his parents, and I were seated around a wooden table, cutlery tinkling over plates of hot food. As we ate the delicious casserole, Mrs. Hunter asked me polite questions about myself, my home, and my gap year.

When it was time for dessert, Jason's father spoke up with a question of his own. "Leena, you are here on vacation, yes?"

"Yes, I am," I replied, accepting a warm slice of pie from Jason's mother with gratitude.

A look of confusion crossed Mr. Hunter's face when he asked, "What are you and Jason planning to do about your relationship after you go back to London?"

"I, uh," I faltered, taken aback by his question.

I flailed around for something to say, my mind reeling with panic. I had no idea how Jason was reacting to Mr. Hunter's question because I couldn't bring myself to look at him.

An uncomfortable silence descended on the table.

Sensing my discomfort, Mrs. Hunter came to my rescue. 

"Bradley, let the kids figure it out themselves," she chided her husband in a soft but insistent tone. "Now come on, let's eat our pie before it gets cold."

The rest of dinner flitted by in a haze. Although the dessert was absolutely delicious, I barely registered its taste. The conversation resumed and I spoke and laughed at the appropriate times, but my mind was clouded with worry and confusion.

Every now and then, I braved a glance at Jason, surprised to find him unaffected by his father's query. Totally unfazed, he directed a sweet, lopsided smile at me whenever our gazes met. 

For the rest of the night, I was plagued by one question:

How did I let things get this far without thinking about the future?