23 | Nostalgia

The Kent family house was not a home. Entering inside the mansion, one could hardly find sentiments signifying that people were living inside it. Yet, the family had never lived away from the house before.

Nostalgia slammed into Blue's body as he walked through his childhood home. He was irritated, hence he quickened his steps, wanting everything to go by as fast as it could.

Blue reached the dining room to see that his father and other brother were already seated on the dining set.

Preston Kent, Blue's father, was as large as a boulder with the aura of a mountain lion. He had as many titles in the pro-boxing world as he had money. And he was very very very rich.

Blue was a carbon copy of his father; a slimmer and more beautiful copy. Preston had sharp edges to his own beauty or in better terms, handsomeness.

"Hm. You're finally here. Have a seat." There was no hint of familiarity or care in Preston's voice as he spoke to Blue.

Blue's face was stiff with hatred as he forced himself to settle on one head of the dining table, directly across from Preston.

Atlas cleared his throat, greeting Preston and Eliot before settling down.

Once Preston saw that everyone was seated and available, he snapped his fingers. Immediately, half a dozen maids walked into the dining room to serve food.

The particular maid who came to serve Blue was one he knew for the most part of his life. The middle-aged maid had manly features with broad shoulders. She was very tall and robust.

"Youngest master, welcome back home." The maid said.

Blue ignored her. But beneath the table, his hands were squeezed tight into fists.

After the food was served, Preston gestured for his sons to begin eating. With respect, Eliot and Atlas had the mind to wait for Preston to have the first spoon before they began eating.

Blue had no such respect. He dug into the food with zero manners. He had been hungry before Atlas showed up at his house and brought him here. There was no need for Blue to compose himself or act mannered in front of the others.

Eliot's lips curled up in disgust as he watched Blue eat barbarically. Then he sneered and said, "Seems like you never eat in that shoebox of a house you live in."

Blue glared at Eliot fiercely. So fierce that a rice grain on the side of his lips fell to the table. Preston and Atlas mentally facepalmed themselves.

"So…" Preston began saying with a sigh. "It has been years since we all have come together to eat like this."

"Yeah. And whose fault is that?" Blue muttered under his breath, but since the other three men were dominant Alphas, they heard his words very clearly.

Eliot opened his mouth to chide Blue, but Preston sent him a look, signifying that he should let Blue's words slide.

"It's my fault. I know. I made a lot of mistakes raising you because-"

"I didn't come here to listen to you regret your life choices. If that's the important thing that I was forced to come here, then I'm leaving." Blue stood up from his chair after saying those words with the intent to leave.

"Sit back down." Atlas's mellow voice reverberated in the dining room as the strong scent of paint held Blue in a chokehold. Blue's fists tightened by his sides.

"Now." Atlas added.

Blue ground his teeth and forced himself to sit down on his chair once again.

"Atlas, don't be too fierce with him." Preston said to Atlas. The latter only nodded and held back his pheromones.

"Don't think that because I'm here again you guys can resume treating me like this." Blue choked out, his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him.

He felt tears well up inside his eyes as memories he had locked up in the back of his head surfaced.

He hated that he could remember how harmful and suffocating the pheromones of each and every member of the Kent family was to him. And how they knew it but never stopped using it to take advantage of him since he was an Omega.

"I'm sorry, Blue. We didn't, I-I didn't-"

Blue threw Preston a sharp look, revealing his reddened and glassy eyes. The three men were taken aback and guilt washed their expressions.

"I'm sorry. I won't do that again." Atlas said without looking at Blue.

Blue humphed in disbelief and looked away from them. Preston cleared his throat. The atmosphere was too suffocating. This was not what he wanted. He hadn't even said what he wanted to and things were already like this.

"I'm going to brief you why I called you here, Blue. I… I want you to move back in."

"No." Blue said instantly.

"Please…" Preston said with a desperate tone. One that Blue had never heard him use before.

"Why should I?" Though Blue's resolve wasn't shaken by Preston's plea, he was now curious as to why Preston wanted him to move back in.

"I'm quitting boxing." Preston said.

"What!?" Blue, Eliot, and Atlas said at the same time.

Preston Kent was a man in his fifties; an age where it was hard to do such a vigorous and physical sport like boxing. Yet, no one had ever advised him to quit.

This was because he took care of himself well and was able to retain his agility and strength from his youth. He even fought better than those half his age. So talking about quitting was out of the blue.

Blue looked at his brothers and realized that they had no idea that this was the important thing that Preston wanted to convey to the three of them.

"Why did you come to such a decision?" Atlas composed his previous shock and asked Preston.

Preston was silent.

"Father, please tell us. This is all so sudden. Why would you want to quit boxing?" Eliot asked anxiously.

Eliot was the one who looked up to Preston the most. The man was his hero and role model.

Unlike his two brothers, Blue didn't ask Preston the reason why he wanted to quit boxing. He guessed that maybe there was something wrong with his health or his physical state was declining.

Blue used his eyes to scan Preston's face and body. Preston didn't look sick. But he did look older than when Blue saw him last.

"It's because of my health. I have stage four brain cancer."