Daddy Dearest

Chapter Seventy Nine

BEN

It's a bloody awful day when Celine Dion becomes the soundtrack to your life. I'm standing in line at the supermarket, trying to avoid eye contact with those dreadful gossip magazines, when that blasted song starts blaring through the speakers. "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" – the irony isn't lost on me.

"There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light... there were things I'd never do again, but then, they'd always seemed right..."

The song takes me back to a time I'd rather forget, when Meredith was still alive. Meredith would sing these lyrics delightfully off-key while cooking or washing the dishes. The memory grips me like a vise, refusing to let go. I recall the way her laughter filled a room and how she always seemed to make everything brighter. But I can't think about Meredith without thinking about Melody, and that's where my mind wanders next.

Melody and I haven't seen each other in weeks. She's been avoiding me and my family like the plague ever since that uncomfortable conversation involving Waverly and the inappropriate feelings that had begun to develop between us. I can't blame her, really. It's a mess of epic proportions, and I'm partially responsible for it.

"Excuse me, sir," the cashier interrupts my thoughts, "your total is $22.35."

"Right, sorry," I mumble as I fumble for my wallet. My hands are trembling slightly, and I can feel the weight of the cashier's impatience bearing down on me. It's just another reminder of the pathetic state my life has become.

"Here you are," I say, handing over the cash. I can't help but wonder if my face is betraying my internal struggle. This supermarket trip was supposed to be a simple chore, not an exercise in emotional turmoil.

"Thank you," the cashier replies, her tone dripping with thinly veiled annoyance. She hands me my change and receipt, and I quickly stuff them into my pocket before escaping the suffocating confines of the checkout area.

As I step out into the cold, grey afternoon, I can't help but feel a sense of relief. The air is damp and frigid, but it's better than the stifling atmosphere inside the supermarket. I pull my coat tighter around myself, shivering against the chill.

"Here's to better days," I mutter under my breath as I walk away, determination pushing me forward.

***

As I continue to walk, my mind drifts back to that fateful day at Sacred Heart Academy. The memory is so vivid; it's as if the scene is playing out in front of me once more. My office had been quiet, the faint sound of students shuffling through the halls outside barely registering in my thoughts. Melody sat on the chair, her legs pulled up to her chest, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and anticipation.

"Ben," she whispered, biting her lower lip. That small gesture set off a chain reaction within me, igniting a fire I'd been trying desperately to smother for weeks.

"Melody," I murmured, kneeling before her, my hands gripping the arms of the chair as if they were the only things tethering me to reality. I was fully aware of what I was doing – being a dirty old man lusting over nubile flesh, as my self-loathing would later remind me. And yet, I couldn't stop myself.

"Please, Ben," she breathed, leaning forward slightly, and that was all it took. The line between right and wrong blurred, and our lips met in a desperate, feverish embrace. She tasted like strawberry lip balm, sweet and intoxicating. For a fleeting moment, pleasure washed over me, drowning out the guilt and shame that lurked beneath the surface.

But then, the gravity of my actions came crashing down on me. I ripped myself away from her with a gasp, my chest heaving as I stared at the girl in front of me. She looked just as stunned as I felt, her wide brown eyes searching mine for answers. In that moment, I saw her not as the confident, mature young woman she had become, but as the child I had watched grow up, and my heart ached with the weight of my mistake.