Chapter 34: Blame

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Roman's POV

"What?" my dad asks as he steps forward towards the table on the opposite side of my mom.

"The drugs caught up with me and I have a couple of months left," she further explains as my dad looks at her blankly. "I got diagnosed with heart cancer and it's getting worse." She begins to cry as tears fall down from her eyes.

That gets me so angry, that I can't even begin to explain.

Abso-fucking-lutely not. She does not get to come in here and pull this shit to make me feel sorry for her after all she did. There is no way in hell I'm forgiving her. I don't even want to look at her right now, or ever.

"Roman-," my dad begins again to defend her case, but I stop him right there.

"I don't give a fuck," I state honestly before he can start that "moving on" bullshit.

My dad looks over at me surprised because he knows that I would never say that to anyone, especially right in front of their face. He's right, I wouldn't. Except with her.

I don't give a shit about her so I really don't care about how he thinks I'm being disrespectful. She deserves it.

"How bad of a thing could she have done to make you hate her so much?" he yells at me like this is my fault.

I could give less of a fuck that he's angry at me. I'm still never saying what happened out loud no matter what, even if it makes me look like the bad guy.

I look over at my mom who's looking back at the ground and wiping her tears away as she swallows down all her emotions.

The fucking rage I feel by just seeing her cry the way I used to when I was a kid is indescribable. I hate her so much that I didn't even realize that amount until she stepped in here and it all gathered up. She even added more by the way she said the news to make me what? Make me forgive her? She does know that she's the reason I hate her? It was all her fault. She doesn't just get a pity party all of a sudden. Dying doesn't change a shitty person because they're still shitty at the end of the day, it just makes other people feel sorry for them until they're gone.

"Hannah, what did you do?" my dad commands for someone to finally tell him the truth.

She stays quiet and doesn't even look up to meet mine or his eyes. I'm not saying anything because one, I promised to myself that no one would ever know with my words. Two, she deserves to say and admit it.

My dad throws his hands in the air, annoyed that after so long, he still doesn't know about anything that happened. I don't blame him because how could I? I kept it so well hidden as a kid as the feeling only got shittier while I grew up so I learned how to make sure it stayed buried well. It's not his fault he doesn't know. I'm the one who made sure nobody ever found out.

"I used to touch him," her voice comes out faint and more like a mumble as she surprisingly admits, but my dad hears her clear as daylight.

My dad's head shoots towards me like a bullet, and this time my head goes down as I try and control the disgusting emotions in my entire body coming back like they used to when I was little. I saw the look of disbelief in my dad's eyes; as well as the disgust, the betrayal, and the outrage seeping through his bones. I only caught a glance of those feelings though because I know I won't be able to handle his glare without noticing the guilt that just flashed on his face.

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