A Lover To Him

Chapter Twenty-four, Ten years ago

December 19th, ten years ago

Caine Williams, fourteen years old at the time

I sigh deeply when I see the red screen on my PC, telling me that I've lost this battle because someone shot me. The screen tells me that I've been shot in the back by another player in the game. I should have watched out more because I would have won this battle if it wasn't for this annoying guy shooting me in the back. I throw the controller on my desk, leaving my room to get something to drink. Hopefully, my dad didn't forget to do some groceries. 

I'm not sure if he had time to do them yesterday, he told me he needed to finish something else for his work first, and it seemed to hold a high priority. He's been working very hard for the past few weeks as it appeared to be terribly busy at work. It might have something to do with the nearing holiday season, Christmas is only five days away. I haven't seen him a lot during the day, but I've been busy doing other things. 

Over the years, I've learned not to be bothered by the amount of time he spends working. My mom left him five years ago, and I can hardly remember her. Sometimes, I remember things she would do with me or her sweet voice when she would read me bedtime stories, but no image nor memory is clear. Not too long ago, I found a picture in a drawer in my dad's office as I tried to search for something else. I can't even remember what I was searching for, but I remember staring at the picture, seeing a woman with blonde, short hair and the same ice-blue eyes I see in the mirror every morning. 

I'm not entirely sure why she left me or my dad, my dad doesn't like to talk about that specific event. Every time I asked him about her, he would just shove the subject off the table and ask me about something else. Only once, he slightly mentioned something about her. He mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like that she wanted to be free. I'm not entirely sure how I should feel about that answer, but I try not to think about it a lot. 

I do believe that there's more to the story than my dad accidentally mentioned, as there are probably more reasons as to why she left the both of us. Somewhere deep inside me, I know that I'm never going to hear the full reason for her absence. My dad won't tell me anything, and my mom won't come back. There's no one around me I can ask about her, we moved away after she left, and I have no other family except for my dad. 

But we've made it together all those years, we don't need anyone else. We take care of each other in our own ways, he teaches me everything I need to know about life, and I remind him about all the things he shouldn't forget. I help out at home, learning to cook because he thinks that the most important task of raising a child is learning how to take care of themselves. 

He also teaches me French even though I've never been in France my entire life nor do I have family living there, I'm still from French origins, and my dad believes it's part of my own culture to teach me French. That's what we do at home, we speak a combination of French and English. My dad once promised me that he would take me to Marseilles one day, showing me the place where he grew up. My grandparents on my dad's side died a long time ago, before I could have a chance to meet them, and I have no clue who my grandparents on my mom's side are, I've never met them either. I'm not sure if they'd be interested in meeting their grandchild, they've never made the intention of getting to know me clear. 

I have never been bothered by it, my dad gave me every piece of love I needed, and that was enough. Some kids in kindergarten did glance at me weirdly when I told them I had no other family except for my dad during class, but I suppose it was because they knew nothing else than having two parents instead of one. 

I got downstairs, walked into our small kitchen, and opened the refrigerator to see if there's was something to drink. To my surprise, the refrigerator was completely filled with food, and I realize my dad must have had time to do the groceries yesterday even though he was very busy. I grab a pack of juice, pouring it into a glass. I take a sip as I look around my familiar home, and I realized that no other place will probably feel like home as much as this home does.