For you, I would.

Chapter six

Once I reached my room, I walked with heavy steps to my bathroom, my heart weighed down by the burden of the day. As I stood before the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, a silent witness to my inner turmoil.

"I pity you," a voice whispered in my mind, a pang of self-compassion amidst the chaos of emotions.

I bit my lip, holding back tears that threatened to spill once more. The reflection before me revealed a face marked by sorrow—swollen eyes and lips, traces of dried tears etched on my cheeks.

With trembling hands, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the pain etched in my features. Stepping out of the bathroom, I sank to the floor, cradling my knees to my chest as silent sobs wracked my body.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on my shoulders, each breath a struggle against the weight of unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. The distance between my father and me felt like an insurmountable chasm, widening with each argument and misunderstanding.

The ache in my heart was palpable, a raw, unfiltered emotion that defied explanation. No words could capture the depth of my despair, the heaviness of my soul.

As fatigue enveloped me like a heavy blanket, my eyelids drooped, and I surrendered to sleep in the solitude of my pain.

~*~

I woke up slowly, feeling the gentle warmth of the sunshine hitting my face. My mind felt foggy, and I clumsily reached out for the blanket to shield my eyes from the light. Despite my urge to retreat into the comfort of sleep, my weary body resisted.

As I peeled open my eyes, I was met with a sharp pang of pain that shot through them.

"Ouch," I hissed, wincing at the discomfort. I made my way to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, only to be confronted with the sight of my swollen eyes. I splashed cool water on my face, trying to soothe the puffiness, and mechanically went through the motions of brushing my teeth.

Leaving the bathroom, my gaze landed on my bed, and confusion knitted my brow. "How did I end up here?" I mumbled, the memory of my tear-stained breakdown on the floor from the night before still fresh in my mind.

Deciding to push aside the haunting thoughts, I ran my fingers through my hair, taking in the familiar surroundings of my room. A pang of nostalgia washed over me as I realized I would soon be leaving this space behind. My room had been a silent witness to my deepest sorrows, my darkest fears, and my most intimate moments of solace and strength.

My eyes then drifted to the sideboard where the picture of my Father and me lay. A sharp ache pierced my heart as I gazed at the fragmented image of the three of us, my dad, that woman, and me. I purposely folded her face in the picture. I refused to have anything that reminded me of her presence.

How did we get in here, Dad?

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. Despite my reluctance, the persistent ache in my stomach compels me to descend the staircase. Each step feels like a burden as I move down in utter silence, only to be met by an oppressive silence that seems to permeate every corner of the mansion. It was as if every corner held echoes of the tense and heavy atmosphere from the previous night.

As I ascended the final step, the main door emitted a soft creak, revealing the imposing figure of Theron. Tall and undeniably handsome, he was dressed in a black shirt with the top two buttons left undone, exuding an air of effortless charm. He fixed his gaze on me as if he already knew where I was. Our eyes connected briefly before I averted my gaze.

Without exchanging a word, I made my way silently to the kitchen. As I swung open the fridge, a small smile tugged at the corners of my lips when I caught sight of my favorite cookies.