Ineffable

62 | AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS

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Noah

"Noah—"

"What the hell are you trying to prove here?" I turn towards my father as I stop my speed walking. He stops steps further away from me.

We are a block or so from that building in the middle of a fucking road at one am in the morning.

In my rage, I had walked to that goddamn place without realizing how far it was actually. But he has his car. He could've gone but no, he wants to walk with me to the fucking hospital.

"A thank you would've been better," He comments.

"You know what?" I step towards him. "Thank you. Now, can you get out of my face?"

He sighs, pushing back his hair. "Noah, just get in the damn car—the weather forecast said there will be a storm tonight."

I scoff. "So? If you don't want to get wet, just get in your car and go."

I gesture behind him where his driver has stopped his car. The driver has been following us closely too.

Again, I turn away from him and start walking when he says, "Stop being stubborn and just get in the car."

"St—" I exhale, "I am not in a mood to argue with you—or even have the energy. I just want to go..."

To Bella.

Her pendant, in my pocket, suddenly feels too heavy.  

Maybe it is my imagination, again, that I see my father's stern eyes turn soft. But I realize that it isn't my imagination, when he says, softly, "Get in the car, Noah. You will be with her in no time."

With both of us, at the same place, it always feels like there's a time bomb just waiting to explode. But right now, it's different, and he and I both know this.

So, I nod my head, accepting it.

The ride back to the hospital is silent and tense too. Even the driver feels it as he puts on the music player. To my surprise, he and I have the same music taste; my father actually listens to R&B, but I don't show anything.

My father coughs, embarrassed. "I hope you don't mind my playlist."

I don't say anything, as Mario's voice resonates in the car. The song continues and fuck—the only thing I can think of is my life with Bella and how it has been better than the rest of my life. All the memories I've shared with her.

Trying to distract my mind from negative thoughts, I push back my hair and lean back on the seat. I ask, "Why did you do it?"

He lets out a breath, knowing what I mean. He leans forward and whispers something to the driver, before sitting back and putting up the divider. Slowly, the playlist becomes a gentle hum in the background.

My father turns towards me. "I know I am not the best father or even a good father—"

"If this is an apology for how shitty you were towards me," I interrupt him, turning away. "Save it. I don't want to hear it."

"Why are you being so difficult?" He huffs.

"I am the one being difficult?" I look at him. "I don't need to remind you of all the times where you were the difficult one. I am sure you remember the times you gave me shit."