𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒 ➢ JOHNNY ROTTEN

TWENTY ONE

Returning home from work, the last thing Marion expected was to find her father sitting outside her front door in the hallway. It was a deeply unwelcome sight.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Marion demanded, her surprise quickly morphing into irritation.

Robert chuckled to himself as he stood up, a response that only fueled Marion's frustration. "Look at you, always so pissed off," he said, finding humour in his observation.

His words rankled Marion. They were untrue, a shallow judgment from a man who didn't truly know her anymore. Approaching him, keys clutched tightly in her hand, she retorted coldly, "Well, you're not exactly bringing out the best in me, are you?"

Robert shifted uncomfortably, his demeanour less brazen than before. He didn't seem as inebriated as he usually was, but the familiar scent of alcohol lingered on him, clinging to his clothes.

"Been drinking, or is that just your natural scent these days?" she asked, raising her brows.

Ignoring her jab, Robert attempted a more serious tone. "I wanted to talk to you, Marion. You've grown so much. Last time I saw you, you were just a kid."

"Yeah, well, a lot happens in five years," Marion replied, her patience wearing thin. "Now if you've got a point, make it. I've had a long day."

Robert's sigh marked a shift in his demeanour, a softening that Marion hadn't anticipated. "I'm sorry, Marion. I know I ain't been there for you. I messed up," he admitted.

"You think an apology's going to fix everything?" Marion asked bitterly.

"No, I..." Robert faltered, then continued with a hesitant confession. "Y'know, your grandpa was a right bastard. Never showed me any love. I 'spose I just didn't know how to be a father."

But Marion wasn't having it. "So, what? Your sob story's supposed to make me feel sorry for you?" she challenged.

"No, I just... I want you to understand. I never meant to hurt you," Robert implored, his plea sounding hollow to Marion.

Marion's perception of her father began to shift. She saw him not as the scary, unapproachable figure of her childhood but as a man trapped in his own insecurities and failures. His father's lack of affection had impacted him deeply, but to Marion, it sounded like a weak excuse.

His problems paled in comparison to the hardships she had endured. The neglect and absence of love and support she had suffered at the hands of her father—what excuse did Robert have? Daddy didn't hug him enough?

Shaking her head, Marion cut to the chase. "What do you really want, Rob? Money? A place to crash?"

Robert was quick to deny it. "No, nothing like that. I just... wanted to see how you were," he said, but Marion knew better.

He was lying, and that stung more than she cared to admit. He didn't mean the things he was saying; they were just a way to get what he wanted. Her father would never truly see her, understand her. He would never be the father she needed.

"I'm surviving. Despite you, not because of you," Marion said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Robert's reply was soft, almost defeated. "I understand if you don't want me 'round..."

Marion didn't hesitate to interrupt. "I don't. I really fucking don't. Now leave me alone." Her words were final, closing the door on any hope of reconciliation.

She watched as her father's face contorted with a hurt that seemed to reach deep into his core. It was as if she had gutted him, leaving him exposed and vulnerable in the dim hallway. Regret hit her, but it was overwhelmed by a sense of satisfaction. For once, she had the upper hand, the power to inflict pain on the man who had caused her so much suffering.