𝐌𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 | f. w

11.

The morning light filtered through my curtains, gently waking me from a restless sleep. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened the night before. My dad's unexpected visit had thrown me into a whirlwind of emotions, and I was struggling to find my footing.

I finally got up, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the lingering fatigue. The kitchen was quiet as I made my way to the coffee maker, the comforting routine of brewing a fresh pot providing a small sense of normalcy. Shadow meowed softly, winding around my legs, his presence a soothing reminder that some things remained constant.

As I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, memories of my conversation with Dad replayed in my mind. It had been years since we last spoke, and his sudden appearance had brought back a flood of emotions I had long buried.

"Freya," he had said, his voice demanding my attention. "I need to talk to you."

I stood there, feeling a mix of anger and apprehension. "Dad, you can't just show up after all these years and expect everything to be okay."

He shrugged, his expression indifferent. "I heard you were doing well at the Ministry. Thought I'd drop by."

My eyes narrowed. "Why now? Why after all this time?"

He smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "I've been around. But it looks like you've done alright without me."

His casual dismissal of the past hurt stung. "You left us. You were abusive and cheated on Mom. How can you stand here and act like it doesn't matter?"

He scoffed, a sneer curling his lip. "People make mistakes, Freya. You think you're so perfect? I bet you've got your own skeletons in the closet."

I crossed my arms, trying to maintain my composure. "This isn't about me. It's about you. What do you want, Dad?"

He straightened up, his demeanor shifting slightly. "I've hit a rough patch. Need a place to stay for a while. Maybe some money."

My heart sank. So this was it. He hadn't changed. "No, Dad. You can't stay here. And I'm not giving you money."

He glared at me, anger flashing in his eyes. "After everything I've done for you?"

I laughed bitterly. "Done for me? You abandoned us. You don't get to play the victim now."

He stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. "You'll regret this, Freya."

I took a sip of my coffee, the warmth providing a small measure of comfort. Despite his words, I remained resolute in my decision. I wouldn't let him back into my life to cause more harm.

After an hour of staring blankly at the wall, I decided I needed some fresh air. The weight of the conversation with my dad was suffocating, and I felt like I was drowning in memories I had tried so hard to forget. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door, Shadow giving me a curious look as I left.

The crisp morning air did little to clear my mind, but I forced myself to keep walking. The streets were relatively quiet, and I hoped a long walk might help me sort through my tangled thoughts.

As I turned a corner, I spotted Fred across the street. He hadn't seen me yet, and for a brief moment, I considered calling out to him. But the turmoil inside me held me back. I wasn't ready to face anyone, least of all Fred, who had been so kind and supportive. I felt too raw, too exposed.

Fred looked up then, his eyes meeting mine. He smiled and started to wave, but I quickly turned away, pretending not to notice him. I crossed the street in the opposite direction, my heart pounding. I felt a pang of guilt, knowing I was being unfair, but I couldn't bring myself to interact with him right now.