The Evans weren't particularly religious so we tucked into the meal without saying Grace. I resisted the urge to sigh in pleasure at the taste of my mom's cooking. Homemade meals weren't something I had really been accustomed to in the past four years. My job required a strict diet so gourmet meals were rarely an option to begin with.

"So," Dad said around a mouthful of lasagne. "Tell us about London. What did you do there?"

"Gentry is a lot like my previous company, just with a different functional structure. Bookings would go straight to our agents, the hours were more stretched out but still productive. A French designer even wants to design his spring couture around me."

"That's quite impressive." Mom praised as she sipped her wine. "And what about Charles? Did you two work together at all or is he more the head of the body?"

"We worked together," I confirmed. "He is the CEO and founder of the company but he likes to interact with his contract models. Be a part of the social hierarchy, you know?"

"Sounds like a good executive," Dad nodded in approval. "I can appreciate a man who can develop a bond with his employees while still clenching an iron fist."

Shaking my head, I swallowed another mouthful before answering. "Oh, Charles wasn't like that at all. He was authorial and decisive but he wasn't autocratic."

"I see," Dad said, "and how did he feel about you leaving?"

"Sad." I replied. "Leaving was bittersweet and I'll miss everyone after working together for so long, but my contract was up and I was needed back here."

"You working with your old company?"

"Yes, Claire has been sending me not-so-subtle messages to come back to work since I left."

"I guess what I don't understand is," Mom said, leaning forward as she sipped her wine slowly, "why did you have to go all the way to London, Troye? If you were planning on returning this entire time, why not just stay here in the first place?"

I placed my fork down gently on my plate. "Mom, you know why I had to leave."

"And I get that baby, I do," she said. "But did you find what you were looking for out there? I'd hate to think you went on this journey and returned empty-handed."

I had to think about that for a second. Pursing my lips in thought, I shook my head slowly. "I don't think it was all-for-not."

Conversation started to flow easier after that. I distracted Mom with questions about work and Dad was happy to follow the conversation. It was Aria that I had to keep fooled.

I did so by moving the topic over to her. We discussed her current album, her plans for the tour, how excited she was to be starting her own foundation for repressed youth. The last one was a major project she'd been undertaking for the past year to help set up struggling American teens with brighter futures than what they'd been given.

Everything was running well. The conversation had jumped back to Mom as she got up to get the apple pie she'd made for dessert.

"And they just celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary." Mom was saying, referring to a close friend of hers. "They were high school sweethearts too. Can you imagine staying with the person you-"

"How's your love life going Troye?" Aria interrupted, not unkindly. She casually leaned forward on the table with her chin cupped in her hands. "Are you dating anyone?"

The room fell silent as I mentally cursed Aria. Mom stared at her daughter in shock and Dad looked slightly tense.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Ari, I'd rather discuss something els-"

"Because you said," She pretended to think. "And let me get this right, that your interview with the magazine was 'not what we would expect.' What did you mean by that, Troye?"

"I-um," I said.

Aria cocked her head. "You also said you'd explain it face-to-face when you saw us next. I'm no horologist but I'd say that moment has a pretty clear shot right now."

"Aria." Mom said, surprisingly firm. "That's enou-"

"I lied."

My family all stared at me and I shrunk under their gaze. "I-I just didn't tell them the c-complete truth about that aspect of my life."

"Well, of course you didn't honey." Mom returned to the table and sat beside me, taking my hands in hers. "No one tells the press any personal details. That's just a given."

I squeezed her hand gently. "You don't understand. I wasn't giving them a different story. I was giving them no story."

Mom cocked her head in a similar fashion to Aria. "I don't understand."

Sighing, I pulled my hands from her grasp and looked down at my lap. "I, um, made myself a promise. A few years ago."

"What promise?" Dad asked.

I cast a glance at Aria, who was watching me closely. There was no malice or smugness in her gaze, simply curiosity and concern. It put me on edge regardless.

I squeezed my eyes shot. "I went to London to figure some things out and I did. Figure them out, I mean. The last man who kissed me made me realise I didn't want a relationship."

"Well, sometimes we like to be on our own for a while and not rush into anything. There are plenty of people in the world who only have casual relationships. Whether it be through hook-ups or one night stan-"

I shook my head, cutting Mom off. "No. I mean, I don't want any kind of relationship."

The table was silent for several minutes. My skin began to crawl under the weight of my family's gaze and my stomach churned with nausea. I felt like I was going to be sick but my throat was too dry to even attempt it.

"Define any relationship." Dad said finally.

"Committed relationships: dates, hookups, one-night stands, anything that requires me to have another person romantically involved."

"So when you say you don't want that..." Mom started.

I shook my head. "Never again. I don't ever want to feel that again."

"Troye, honey," Mom took my hand in hers again as Dad and Aria stayed silent. "I know things have...happened in the past that could change your viewpoint, but that is a big decision to make at such a young age."

"I'm not a child." I said firmly, taking my hands back. "I know what this means."

"You said you called it a promise. What exactly did you promise yourself?"

In my head I counted to ten before exhaling. "I promised myself to never fall in love again."

There was silence as my family stared at me with mixed expression. Dad was the first to break the tension.

"Aria, go upstairs." he said firmly.

"But I-"

"Go, please."

Resolutely, my sister stood from the table, bid me a sorry look and left the room. I felt my heart shake my ribcage as I turned to face my parents. "Look, before you guys say anything-"

Dad held his hand up, cutting off my next sentence. "Troye," he said gently. "I understand your reasons for making this decision, I do, but are you sure this is really what you want?"

Mom went to say something but Dad placed his hand over hers gently in a silent gesture to let me speak.

"I know you think it sounds crazy." I admitted. "Because it does. It's crazy and irrational and restrictive and downright ridiculous, but it's right for me."

"Falling in love isn't always voluntary." Dad continued. "What happens when it gets to that point?"

"I'll never let myself get far enough to even reach that point." I replied automatically.

Dad could tell my mind was made up but Mom still pushed. "You're so young," she said, trying to hide the sadness in her voice and failing. "Love is a part of life Troye, no matter how old you are. I'd hate to think you're missing out on that because of something that happened in the past."

"I still have love." I promised. "It just won't be romantic. I have you, my family, and my friends at work. I may even get a dog-"

"It won't be enough." Mom urged. "A dog, Troye? You really think that's going to fill the hole that Ja-"

I stood up so fast that my chair went crashing into the wall. It shook the table and the cutlery rattled with the screech of metal as an empty wine glass was knocked over.

The air was still with tension, me against the wall breathing heavily and my parents stunned to silence in their chairs. We all stared in different directions. The nauseas feeling was rising in my stomach.

Dad stood carefully, as if not to spook a wild animal, and cleared his throat. "We made up your old bedroom. There's fresh sheets on the bed and I put your suitcase in there earlier."

I knew what he was doing. He was giving me a free escape card. All I needed to do was reach out and take it.

"Troye, I-" Mom started, but Dad placed a hand on her shoulder and she closed her mouth instantly, watching me with sad eyes.

I edged forward a little, my eyes trained on my parents as though they were hunters and their guns were hidden under the table. When I had decided that they weren't going to move as I passed, I bolted. Out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Aria was waiting on the landing. "Troye-"

"Please, not now." I plead to my sister as I passed by her and continued on my way to my bedroom. My heart was slamming in my chest.

I counted the footsteps to the door, praying each one would be the last. When I reached the room I turned around and closed the door, locking it before leaning back against the wood and letting my breaths come out in short, ragged intervals.

It was ten minutes before my lungs began to breathe deeply again but my head was still pounding. This day had been too much and I needed it to end.

Stripping off my clothes, I quickly took a shower in the ajoining bathroom and changed into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt that was in my promised suitcase.

Hitting the lights, I climbed into my childhood bed and stared up at the ceiling. The rattling of dishes could be heard downstairs in the kitchen and hushed voices filtered up through the floor, though I couldn't make out what they were saying.

It was hours before I managed to sleep.