¶𝗥𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗕𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗺 [H.S]

1.17

𝙰𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the dress and the high heels I had picked while my father lectured me on my life choices. I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm, stopping me from storming out of the room. I looked at him with arched brows. "What?" I asked blatantly.

"What do you think you're wearing?" he asked, making my blood boil.

Since my mother... went on a vacation, he has been all in my business. He always has something to say about what I eat, what I wear, where I sleep, and who I am with. Yes, he is my parent by law and nature, but I am no longer a kid who doesn't know what they are doing.

Instead of answering his question, I threw another at him, "You don't expect me to walk around Washington in my pajamas, now do you?"

He hissed, making me pull my arm off his hand. "You can't wear that," he insisted. My blood started boiling.

"Watch me!" I almost yelled in his face.

"My daughter won't wear something like those... those other girls," he hissed with his jaw clenching. My mouth fell open. He couldn't be serious.

"And who are those other girls?" I asked, making a step closer. The tension between us grew. "Do you mean someone's daughter? Mother? Sister? I don't know, friend?" He gawked at my questions. I knew what I was doing, but he was the one who asked for it. Then my frown broke into a surprised smile as I arched my browse and stepped back, "Oh, did you mean the whores you were sleeping around with? Sorry--" I couldn't finish my sentence as a burning sensation covered my left cheek.

He hit me.

I knew he was violent, just as I knew he had been messing around with younger girls since my mother left. Gossip spread around the suburbs quite fast. But then again, I would have never guessed he was a man to hit his daughter. Starting bar fights and eating a punch or two when he was drunk - yes, he was a man to do that. Whereas hitting his daughter when he went out with girls my age? That was new.

In utter shock, I laughed at him. The pain spread like a rash around my face and body as I walked away from him. The burning sensation reached my heart, suffocating me in pain. The tears filling my eyes were not from pain but from anger. Anger that I have been bottling for years. And I knew crying it out wouldn't have freed me from that burden. So I kept it inside to remind me that it wasn't only my rage but my mother's as well. Owing to the fact it was the only thing left of her now.

Swallowing the tears down, I changed my clothes in the bathroom. I threw my pajamas in the laundry basket and gave myself a last look in the bathroom. You are okay, Aiden. You might have your father's eyes, but that doesn't make you like him. You are better. Just because your father doesn't love you doesn't mean you are not worthy of love. You have friends who care for you. You have a boyfriend that loves you. You have Melanie to hold onto if things get worse. You are not alone. Come on, Aiden, smile. Show that pretty smile. Be strong for them. Keep going for them, I told myself, holding onto the sink with eyes glued on my reflection.

Self-love affirmations, remember that - I whispered to myself. I had read many of Melanie's mother's psychology books and my boyfriend's self-love ones, yet I had trouble doing what was written in them.

"Harry!" I cheered when I noticed him sitting on the couch. I hugged him from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek.

He was smoking his weed, scrolling through his phone. Then he got a notification. "Hi, baby. I missed you," his voice was raspy as he turned to kiss my lips quickly. Though, I found it hard to concentrate on him with the message he had received.