SINS (Completed)

EXPERT OPINIONS

"You got Fifty Shades huh?"

Dad picks up the book, turning it in his hand and inspecting it, as he strolled across my room after a long, lavish dinner that involved a lot of sugar. And chicken.

It's the same book that I had torn apart in one of my panic fits and Lily had got binded again because 'it is a piece of art' . Her words.

"Dad." I say in a stern tone, conveying that it wasn't a big deal, but he simply starts turning a few pages with a deep concentrated frown, before his eyes twinkle with realisation.

"Isn't this the one where the boy is into some heavy machinery kink? Floggers, canes and all that funny stuff, and wait- he had a room for that didn't he, what was it, purple room of pa?"

"Oh my g- okay no. We're not-"

"No, purple was your Korean boys, it was-"
He dawdles, stretching the 'was' teasingly while looking up at the ceiling to feign a look of contemplation.

I look at him wide mouthed silently, before bursting into the loudest laughter erupting from my stomach.

Dad joins me as he sits on the bed, with the book and I lean my hips against the table, laughing in roars and picking up the cushion on the chair, I throw it at his head as a sign of fake protest.

It hits him lightly, making me laugh harder and he chuckles looking down.

Eventually when we're done, I exhale heavily and move my middle fingers to the brim of my eyes to remove the tear that accumulated due to laughing too much.

When I look back at Dad with a remnant smile, he is already looking at me softly.

"How long, Theresa?" He asks warmly.

"What?" I shake my head in confusion.

"How long since you've laughed like that?" He enquires in a low yet strong voice and my smile slips away immediately, every reminder coming back as to why it should.

Dad purses his lips and looks away to the side. "Yeah, I thought so."

He places the book on my bedside table and straightens the bedsheet beside him before coughing and fisting his hands together in front of him by resting his elbows on his knees.

He looks at me patiently and his whole stance says "I'm listening."

I heave a deep breath, thinking of where to start and what to say, if at all.

"There's this boy-"

"Do you love him?"

I start vaguely before Dad cuts me in bluntly throwing the love question face-first immediately in the first second of the conversation, no holding back.

I reel from the staggering suddenness, blinking in stupor. It has been a while I've had experience of conversing with Ethan Young.

"If you don't love him, then the matter is not worth discussing, so do you love him?" He quips in a no nonsense tone, waiting for my answer.

Hardin's face flashes in front of my eyes and my answer sits right out.

"I do-" I lick my lips and a helpless chuckle escapes my lips, "-so much."

"And he hurt you." He asks rhetorically.

"In every way a person can be hurt."

"But he made you happy?" Dad asks in the plainest and simplest way, no judgement or anger in his eyes.

Moments from my past revolve in my head like a reflex, making me remember every time Hardin and I sang and danced and bickered and laughed and- lived.