Stop trying at act like you're my real dad. Stop trying to be my real dad, stop trying to be my dad.

Those words echo in my mind making my heart beat like a rock, and beat much more than it has in centuries. Now if you haven't figured this out yet, my heart doesn't beat regularly, it doesn't need to, it only does with my feelings, the stronger the feelings, no matter if their happy or sad, the more it beats.

I was planning on taking a shower before this happened, but I don't want to anymore. I just want to wash my hands, get a new shirt on, and act like this didn't happen.

After I did just that I put the keys in my night stand drawer and leave to the kitchen to make him lunch.

I find that we're out of milk and eggs, so I decide that after this I'll go shopping. I make a grilled cheese for him and some chips before putting the plate where he normally eats and go to get him a drink.

Does he really not see me as a father? Does he hate me for not giving him to the police? He doesn't know what kind of life he could have had if I didn't take him. But maybe he would have had better one? One with a mom and dad, and they wouldn't worry about him as much. He could have had siblings, and a normal life without me.

I get the keys from my night stand, leave a note saying "I'll be back" by the plate before leaving to my car.

...

I end up going to get a new phone as well since I'm out and just sit in my car by myself for a while.

Luhan's right, I can't keep him locked up in my house forever, and if he doesn't want that, then I'll help him move out. I won't stop him if that's what he wants. He said he hated me, I don't know if he meant it or not, I'd like to think he didn't, but that doesn't stop the words from hurting.

My baby isn't my baby anymore.

When I get home I go to the kitchen and find the plate untouched and the note crumpled up next to it. I sigh softly and take them both to the trash to dump them along with the glass of water then begin putting the groceries away.

Not long after I hear his bedroom door open and his bare feet hitting the wood flooring as he walks softly. I want so badly to turn around and see my three year old Luhan walking out of my room with his blankey in his hand while his other rubs his eye after waking up from his afternoon nap.

Just as I open the trash to throw out the receipt I find a familiar yellow cloth in the bottom of it, covered in chips and cheese from the sandwich on it. I can't help but pull it out and look at it. The corners of the blanket are still twisted up from when he would roll it up and chew on it or stick it up his nose. He stuck so many things up his nose, and the corners of this are still all twisted up like they're permanently stuck like that. I can't explain how bad it hurts to think he threw this away. He loved this so much and I loved how much he loved it, and now he's just too old for it. I bite my lip as I put it back before he comes around the corner.

"Hyung?" He calls as I quickly pull myself together and walk over to the bags.

"When you turn eighteen, Luhan." I begin, wanting to cut him off before he could say anything else. "If you want to move out, I won't stop you. I can't stop you." I quickly correct before he could say it. "Your birthday is in a few months, you can start looking for apartments in the city, and colleges." I say making my throat lock up from the thought of living alone again.

"Excuse me, I think I left something in the car." I say as I try to zip past him, not wanting him to see me like this.

As soon as I shut the door behind me I get away from the house.

He's broken my heart.