Enough

four

Camila followed Lauren's line of sight, and there he was. She pinched herself, in case she had fallen asleep; her father only ever appeared in her dreams. Camila often dreamt of his gentle caress upon her head that he so frequently gave when she was a child. And the soft hums he would emit to send her off to sleep. Only, these days when she woke up, she woke up alone.

Dropping everything, Camila wandered off, following her dad's trail up the winding staircase. She found herself in his bedroom, her body had taken her there subconsciously as it did most mornings.

"Dad?" She uttered.

Her father crouched beside his bedside table, rummaging through, looking for something. He didn't respond to her call.

Camila knew she wasn't dreaming anymore, the father in her dreams would've eagerly embraced her in a tight hug. He would've said how much he missed her, promising Camila that her mother and himself would be moving back in.

"Dad." Camila stated, no longer wondering if it were him. She wanted his attention still; he would not offer it.

"Dad!" She shouted.

Nothing.

He stood up from his nightstand, his old watch in grasp; he had completed his search. Camila wondered if he could smell her perfume upon it, she had worn that watch every night since he had been gone.

"Why won't you answer me?" Camila cried; hot tears streamed down her face. She didn't know when she began to cry or that she was even crying at all. Her body had betrayed her.

Mr Cabello walked around his daughter, as if she were an obstacle, and exited the room.

"Dad, please!" Camila screamed. She grabbed the hem of his blazer as he passed, only to be shaken off like an insect.

Camila had rehearsed the lines she would say to her father when she saw him again; over and over. She would tell him how much she missed him, and he would reciprocate the feeling, even apologise for why he left.

She didn't anticipate, however, that he would treat her like a beggar pleading for money. She hardly thought asking her father to acknowledge his own daughter was anything close to that situation. Yet, that's exactly how it felt.

"Fuck you!" Camila tried a different approach; anger. Any response from him would be enough for her.

Nothing.

Camila stood in his path, forcing Mr Cabello to see her, "Please, don't go." She sobbed.

He was staring at her; his eyes holding no emotion or empathic tendencies. Completely stone cold. It made Camila cry even harder.

She closed her eyes, imagining the same man asking her not to cry, even wiping her tears from her cheeks. And when she opened her eyes back up, he had vanished.

He had taken Camila's time dissociating to walk past her and down the stairs. Though, she wasn't going to let her father go that easy.

"You're a coward!"

Camila was now screaming in the middle of the foyer. The stragglers from the party had gathered to see the commotion as if Camila was the centre of a dance circle.

"You're a fucking coward, you can't even talk to your own daughter because you're afraid you might still love me despite my preferences." Oddly, Camila was laughing now. She had been digging for her composure and had finally found it.

"And that scares you because your morals are so rooted in you that you'd rather disown me than admit you're wrong!"

Camila had caught her father's attention. He had reached the car, which conveniently was waiting for him; he knew he wouldn't be there for long. As his hand grasped the car's handle, he turned to look at his daughter; voluntarily.