The Five Cursed Witches: Volume 1 - Zoe, the Witch of Innocence

Chapter 10 Families

Zoe

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He looked down at his cup. Both of his hands held onto it. I had an urge to reach over and gently touch his hands, but I resisted it.

Of course, I knew the general answer as to why he would tell me to not talk about witches in the way I had in front of his father. But there had been something in his eyes and his tone that had prompted me to ask the question anyway. It had seemed to be sadness, or maybe even fear. It made me think that the truth was more complex than a simple "because he's a witch hunter" and his downcast eyes and firm grip on the cup supported my hunch.

So I asked: "You don't get along with your father?"

"I do," he answered harshly and looked up. But as his eyes met mine, he looked down again. His voice turned softer. "Or, it's complicated, I guess."

"Want to tell me?"

"No." His tone was harsh again.

I didn't know what to say, so I simply looked down at my cup also, fidgeted with its ear. The silence grew between us and the happy chattering from the people around us only made it even more dense.

"I'm sorry," he finally said and sighed. "It's just not my favorite topic."

"It's fine."

We looked at each other again. I thought I could see the untold answer in his eyes. An answer about a controlling father Felix wanted nothing but to escape from. But in my mind, I laughed at my own foolishness and vivid imagination. Just because I wanted something to be the case, it didn't make it true.

"How about your family?" he asked, forcing his lips to smile. It looked rather stiff. 

But I returned the smile and started my answer with a tone of ease to brush over the tension from right before.

"My father is great! One of the best people I know. My mother died while giving birth to me, so it's always just been me and my father. But he's done everything he can for me even though..." I shook my head, stopped my words as the next things would bring the seriousness back and because it created a lump in my throat. It was the one thing I had done my best to not think of since I sat down.

"Even though?" Felix pushed, however, and... I wanted to tell him, and it felt obvious that I would. He made me feel safe to tell.

I took a deep breath. My eyes were on my cup and my voice only a soft whisper as I answered. "Even though it's my fault my mother died. His soulmate. It would be easy for him to blame me, hate me, but he doesn't."

"How is it your fault?"

I looked back up at him. There was a crease between his eyebrows. "If I hadn't been born, she would still be alive."

I saw how Felix's hand reached for mine and I pulled them off the table, placed them in my lap.

"It's not your fault. How could it be? People do die when giving birth, but that's just what happens sometimes."

I felt the genuineness in his words and his desire to comfort me. His eyes were still in a frown as he watched me. I gave him a quick smile through my sadness.

"Anyway. That's my tragic family story." I tried to add a laugh, but it sounded flat even to my ears.

Felix looked away for a short moment before speaking. "I don't know where my mom is. She might be dead or be happily married to someone other than my dad and have other children. I might be adopted, though likely not because I do look a lot like Dad. Perhaps she was just a surrogate. I used to ask my dad about her when I was younger, but he would only get angry. So I stopped."

"So you also grew up with just your dad?"

He huffed. "Hardly. My grandparents lived with us until they died seven years ago. Apparently, my granddad must have had some sort of heart since he died only a month after my grandma."

"I'm sorry," I said, and this time I didn't resist the urge to put my hand on his. The pain in his voice. I wondered what they did. Abused him somehow. Just verbally or physically as well?

"Well, with those as parents, I understand why my dad is the way he is. He didn't really have a chance. And he's better than them. With him, at least there is some sense in... In his outbursts."

My heart broke for him. My love. All I wanted to do was to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay from now on. That I wouldn't let anyone hurt him ever again.

I didn't really notice as our fingers intertwine. They moved around each other as if they were dancing.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I said, "but why do you still live with your father?"

"It's complicated," he said first, but I patiently waited to see if more would come. One of his fingers had started drawing circles on my palm. "He has a business. Making like religious items, crosses and such. And I help him with some of that stuff, which makes it more convenient for me to live with him."

My stomach was turned upside down. I sent a short pray to the Goddess that it was only the official business that Felix helped his father with. That maybe he wasn't even aware of the witch hunting part and, if he was, that he highly disapproved. But I knew the truth, I could feel it. It was, after all, more likely that Felix parroted his father's opinions and views than the other way around.

I didn't get to dwell on it that long though, as I felt a tug on my glove. I looked down to see Felix's fingers stretch out the fabric.

"Why do you wear these? Doesn't it get warm?" he asked and my body turned to ice.