– What was he talking about? – Victor asked, frowning.
He nudged me slightly because I didn't answer right away.
– I need to go home – I replied, still staring at the door where Manuel had disappeared.
– Whose home? – Victor's eyebrows shot up, expressing his growing astonishment.
– Mine – I clarified. – My family home.
– The home where you grew up? – Victor confirmed. – Why? You...
– I have something there that I need to get – I interrupted him, reaching for my coat on the rack.
– Why do you look like someone just shoved cow dung under your nose? – I asked, as I slid my arms into the sleeves and he still hadn't moved.
– Perez just ruined our office fun – he muttered with a grumpy look that quickly turned into a mischievous smile.
Less than an hour later, I pulled up to my family home in the pearl white Porsche 911 Carrera my beloved had gifted me, and immediately noticed the front doors wide open.
I frowned slightly and pushed the car door open.
– Wait here for me – I instructed Victor as I got out. – I'll be right back.
– Maybe I should come with you? – he offered, glancing at the doors with a mix of curiosity and concern.
– No need – I quickly replied. – It will only take a moment.
I walked to the gate and, before taking another step forward, took another look at the massive double front doors. They were wide open, and nothing indicated that anyone inside the building was bothered by it. Strange.
– They've been open since yesterday – I heard a male voice from my right.
I turned to its source to see the corpulent neighbor from across the street, who had lived there for as long as I could remember.
– Good thing someone came. My wife and I were just about to call the police. You ladies should take better care of your father; he's not looking well. He needs a wife – he added in a kindly, know-it-all tone.
– Thank you for your concern – I said in the politest tone I could muster, thinking about that bastard and omitting the fact that a wife was definitely not coming back.
– And once the divorce is final, she won't even think about him anymore – the little creature inside me added venomously.
I approached the gate and pressed the handle without much conviction, but to my surprise, it gave way. Before entering, I hesitated because the open front doors didn't fit this place at all, and something was pulling me back to the comfortable interior of the Porsche, but since I had already decided to come, enduring a moment in my father's presence wasn't the end of the world.
I walked along the garden path leading straight to the main entrance and then cautiously stepped inside.
Under my feet, a few dry leaves crunched. I tiptoed through the hallway and turned toward the stairs. I placed my foot on the first step and froze when it creaked. No one reacted. The whole house was eerily silent.
This suited me just fine since I wasn't particularly eager to meet my father, but the longer I listened to the prevailing silence, the more unsettling it became. Despite the grave-like quiet, it felt as if someone was lurking in the shadows.
Without delay, I hurried up the stairs, skipping every other step. It was better for my psyche not to stay in this place too long, whether my father was home or not.

YOU ARE READING
Butterfly's Year
Romance" - We are in a church, - I remarked sensibly. - Absolutely, - he agreed with a pleasant purr that vibrated between my legs. - Your parents are standing right there, - I whispered, discreetly pointing to his mom and dad standing in front of the alta...