Paint Me Saved ✓ Book 1

29. Bubbles of happiness

Zemira

Different people had different notions about calmness. For Kiera, it was running barefoot on the beach. For Tag, it was listening to the Beatles. For my father, it was seeing Mom's photo in his wallet. 

For all of them, it gave a sense of respite, an escape from their troubles.

The moment I stepped into Dad's office, I felt calm. 

Calm from the storm which huddled and crashed inside me every time I was close to Leo. Our apartment has become a battleground for me, for the longings I felt. Every time our eyes meet, I plummeted into a pool of desire.

My mind altered the agreement we had. I no longer wanted to be a party to the ruse. Since our relationship transpired beyond the borders of bed and started creeping into my heart, I wanted the games we played to turn into reality. 

I wanted us to be us.

"There she is." Breaking my reverie, Dad walked into his office. For our weekly get-together, I found myself accepting his proposal to have lunch at our office than meeting outside.

Tossing the rainbow-colored files on the table, he tossed his arms up for me. 

"I missed you, kiddo."

Since childhood, I found my father's hug to be the cure for all my troubles. 

When I scrapped my knees, Dad's cuddles brought me respite. It conveyed he would bear the sting alongside. When I grew into a rebellious teenager, he never scolded me for my wrongdoings but kept wrapping me in his embrace. He knew my aggression helped fill the void I felt in my chest after Mom's demise. 

Even when the news of Tag's demise quaked my world, Dad held onto me. He sheltered me while I wept dry.

So it wasn't unusual for him to embrace me. 

The unusual was me clinging onto him longer than usual. I was trying to take every ounce of his love and affection and fill me up. 

Somehow, I had this notion that if I found enough love in the world from everyone, I wouldn't crave it from one specific man.

"Something on your mind?" Dad asked when I remained hung over his body. He must have read my tell-tale signs of turmoil, occurring when I craved peace from the tussle between my heart and mind.

"Not at all."

What else was I supposed to say? 

That his daughter was falling for a man who had less than a year to stay. That the chances of Leo safely returning were equivalent to witnessing a shooting star at night. 

Or that I was dreading the future while trotting down a dangerous path, willing to risk everything.

"I'll believe it when I see it for myself," Dad said, winking at me.

We assembled at the lunch table in his office. The streaming sunlight illuminated the room. The warmth from the window diffused with the cold from the air conditioning, hitting the center of my chest.

"You know you can tell me anything, kiddo. I won't tell anyone, I promise." Dad pointed his fork at me, grinning like a child.

"It's nothing, I promise. It's just..."

"Boy trouble?" He tilted his head, watching as my head dug into my chest. I couldn't look at him after he correctly assumed my state of worry. "So I was right."

Although not quite the boy trouble, it surely was an adulating issue.

"It's Leo." I looked away. The bright sunlit world outside the glass pane held its grip over my skin, enabling me to speak. "I think I am-"