ONE HEART 4 STRINGS || Joshua ||SVT ff ||18+

46

"I'M sorry Aurora," It's all I've heard I from my father for the past week. It's the same in the morning, afternoon, evening and at night. Every time we cross paths in the house or at the hospital, he utters that single line of apology with his shoulders drooping low.

I still don't know what he did; no one tells me anything. I blacked out on the floor that day after he locked me in. I only regained consciousness when one of the maids came to check on me, following my father's instructions. They must have grown concerned after not hearing my screams anymore.

No one returned my calls, not even Joshua. All I received were texts, apologies claiming they were in a meeting with the company. I asked about Joshua's well-being, and they all assured me that he was doing fine. Unsatisfied with their responses, I contacted Somi again, and she reassured me that there was nothing to worry about. Heck! I even scoured online tabloids in an attempt to find any news about Joshua - nothing!

At some point, I had to stop. What exactly was I searching for? If everyone, including Somi, claimed he was fine, then I should believe them and not some tabloid gossip or potential rumors. Besides, he had sent me a message the following day.

Mi Sol💙
Day 93 without you. God, I love you Celine. I miss you.

I love you too 💙

I responded; I couldn't resist. I couldn't ignore his silent pleas, couldn't disregard the way he tugged at my heartstrings. I miss him too much; it hurts to even breathe. He attempted to call after my text, but I couldn't bring myself to take the call. I couldn't bear to see his beautiful face or hear that voice that sets my stomach into a frenzy. I'm relieved he's unharmed; that's all that matters right now. So, I stuck to simply replying to his texts occasionally. I didn't want to make promises I wasn't certain I could keep.

And today, exactly one week after Michael's stunt, I find myself seated on my bed with my parents by my dresser. It's only 6 am, but my father woke me from a dream of Joshua, saying they needed to talk. Mother is back from the hospital now, but she has nurses on standby. I barely managed to wash my face and brush my teeth before they came in.

My eyes keep flickering between my father's face and my mom's. What could be so important that they had to wake me up this early? They both look tense, especially my father. He seems uncomfortable and has been avoiding meeting my gaze. On the other hand, my mother appears sorrowful; I can see the sadness in her eyes, and my heart breaks at the sight.

This better be important.

Mother holds father's hand and squeezes it. Then, she sighs and begins, "Celine, your father has a few things to tell you. Please listen to him. We apologize for waking you up so early. He has a trip to New York in a few hours. We'll talk when he leaves, mm baby girl?"

"Yes, ma," I respond, grabbing a giant plushie and wrapping my arms around it.

Father clears his throat, finally gaining my attention. He looks at my face, for the first time in weeks, "Aurora, I'm so sorry. I'm not proud of my actions. I'm not proud that you got hurt repeatedly because of me. Michael has been locked up now, and he won't be getting out any time soon," he pauses, and for the first time, I notice the bags under his eyes. His forehead is creased, displaying just how troubled he is. I feel a pang of pain, perhaps guilt, in my chest.

He's hurting.
Father is hurting and I might have also contributed to it.

"I should have listened to you all those times. I'm sorry I let that bastard get into my head. I'm sorry for not paying attention to your needs. Your happiness is very important to us, and I'm sorry I messed that up repeatedly. I wasn't a very good father to you, my baby girl," he pauses again. He lifts his head, and as he looks at me, I notice the tears in his eyes.