The one being handled?

Chris sat across from his parents in the smaller lounge—the talk space, as his father called it. His father had woken up late, and thankfully, his mother had returned from a meeting early. He had thought she would stay out longer. For some reason, Chris felt like he was doing something wrong by just lazying about home and not returning to work like he had been doing the past week. But they had told him it was fine.

Was it really?

Despite that, he still had the desire to do this. It was selfish, yes. But he had no other choice.

He cleared his throat. "So, um… I was thinking... if it was possible to have a little break."

His mother looked up from her cup, one brow rising in silent curiosity. His father didn't move at all, just waited.