RIDDLES PROPERTY

chapter 65

3 weeks later

"How was work today?"

"It was alright. Only my second week. Hard doing magic without muggles seeing. Oatmeal for dinner?"

Emelia sighed. She was sitting at the dinner table stirring around her cold porridge. It was getting hard to obliviate the landlord's memory every time he asked them to pay. Of course they had money, they just needed to save it for food.

"You have to adapt if you want to live here until the tensions, which you started, back home are over."

"Yeah. I've been thinking, New York's a bit bland."

She got up and pushed her chair in.

"I have to go check up on Ophelia."

Her tone had changed and Tom had noticed. Emelia's hair was messily bunched up and loose with a hair tie barely holding it together. Her hands were fidgety as if she wanted him to notice anything, but didn't say what it was.

"It's your birthday," he finally said.

"Mmm, how'd you know?"

"I didn't. Lucky guess. Why didn't you tell me?" he asked.

She got her bowl and started walking over to the sink.

"It's not interesting. Our lives aren't that interesting." Emelia admitted.

"We're the number one most wanted wizards in the U.K. and you're worried about our lives not being interesting. I'm not sure if anything pleases you now anymore."

"You used to be more closed off," she stated.

"Would you rather I be closed off than spend time with my lovely friend and our daughter."

"You put emphasis on the word friend. I know you're mad at me, but we haven't exactly been adjusting properly. Actually, that's the problem. We're not adjusting at all. This house doesn't suit us and neither does this town."

He got up suddenly and snatched his jacket.

"You agreed to this. Do you think I wanted all of this to happen?"

"I'm starting to think you did," Emelia said quietly.

"It's so hard to appease you females. Always bickering and always involving your emotions. I did all this for YOU."

"Don't call me female."

"I'm not doing this tonight, Emelia. We were doing so fine this past month! I just didn't want to fight, you overcomplicate absolutely everything. I'm going out."

It reminded her of her father. From the way he grabbed his jacket to the way their argument had progressed.

"You're a coward, Riddle. Go ahead and leave while our daughter sleeps in the room next to us, of course. Rum away from all your problems. Just like my father, eh?"

He paused next to the door.

"I may be many things, but I'm not like your father. I've seen the things he's capable of and how much distress he's put you in. Don't compare me to that filth. Your comment just showed me how utterly blind you are."

He stood there for a moment. The door creaked open and shut lightly. Tom was as gone as the wind and their life back in England. She looked around for her lighter and tried finding the cigarettes.

"Fuck," she muttered.

He'd taken them, of course. He knew Emelia too well. He knew she'd smoke as soon as he'd leave. She hated that, why'd he have to leave?

But it wasn't as if she was going to cry. The pain would subside sooner or later and she'd be fine. It felt as if her mood depended on Tom. Whether he was in a happy mood or sad mood, whether he liked the food or not. Her life revolved around Tom, at this point. This wasn't how she wanted to spend her 18th birthday as a  legal muggle.

She walked over to the landline and looked at it. At first she contemplated calling Helen.

No, that would be a bad idea. Ex-lovers, no no no she thought. What if I dialed a random number, yes. Yes, that'll make me feel better. No it won't. Just keep yourself occupied before he comes back so you won't resort to other things.

Emelia and her inner monologue agreed upon calling a random number. She hit the numbers into the phone and it rung and rung.

"Wotcher, this is the Weasley household!"

Emelia nearly dropped the phone. She stayed silent and kept it up to her ear.

"Hello? May I ask who's speaking?"

No reply.

"Yeah, Arthur, I tried operating the muggle phone and it seems to be I may've broken it...I'm very, very sorry..."

Nymphadora.

"No, no, no, I'm here." Emelia said. She didn't want Tonks to get into trouble. It was almost an instinct to protect her from. a fathers wrath even if Mr. Weasley could never be that bad.

That was where she was at fault.

"...Emelia?"

She had to hang up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The number she'd dialed she had heard on the wizarding magazine on her way to New York. Arthur's voice had said it so much that it got stuck on loop in her head. Hopefully, Nymphadora would disregard that and assume it was her being clumsy.

Emelia frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. This was odd. All of it. The second she took a seat Ophelia was crying again. On her birthday. Her stupid bloody birthday.

"Come back, Tom," she muttered.