THE LONG WAIT

Chapter 9: A father and daughters quarrel

Shelley

Today has been an incredibly hectic day at work. Shelley is completely worn out, and as she reaches her door, she struggles to insert her key into the lock. Frustrated, she mutters, "Come on, I don't have time for this," while she fidgets with the key. Suddenly, her phone rings, and with a sigh, she answers the call. "Hello, Dad. What's it this time?"

"Nice to hear your voice as always, my daughter," he says with a chuckle. "Couldn't you at least pretend to be happy to hear my voice? Must you always sound bitter anytime you pick up the phone to talk to me?" The concern in his voice is evident, and his words carry a tinge of disappointment.

"Dad, I don't have time for this. If you have something to say, just say it. I am too tired for your games," she said wearily, feeling the exhaustion in every word.

There was a moment of heavy silence before he resumed the conversation. "Then I guess you would not have the time to accommodate your father in your house then," he replied with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"What do you mean?" she asks angrily. 

"Hey, why don't you turn around, sweetheart," he says. She spins around, anger boiling through her as she looks for him. Suddenly, she spots a man in a vibrant African print shirt and black trousers waving at her from the parking lot. Her mind races with questions: 'What in the name of God is he doing here?' As if he could read her mind, he replied by saying, "Surprise! I was in the capital on business and decided to drop by to see how you're doing. So, here I am."

"Really? ...and you couldn't even bother to call first." Irritated by my inquiry, he shot back, "What part of surprise do you not get, young lady?" She observed him making his way up to her apartment as he ascended the stairs to her floor, catching bits of his frustrated conversation on the phone. When he reached her floor, he abruptly ended the call.

"Your home is truly exquisite," he comments, his tone betraying a sense of entitlement. "I found the address from your mother," he says. "Are you planning to welcome me inside, my daughter, or shall I linger on your doorstep all day?" Her fury mounts as she stands there, unable to avert her gaze from him. She despises his audacity in showing up at her home uninvited, yet she feels powerless to turn him away. Despite her intense dislike for him, She cannot allow herself to show disrespect to her father.

She hesitantly swings the door open to let him inside. Once indoors, she drops her bag on the couch and offers him a beverage, but he declines and makes himself comfortable on the couch.

She couldn't hold it in any longer and blurted out, "So, when are you planning to leave?" He looked at her in surprise and replied, "But I just got here." she shot back, "That's exactly why I'm asking when you'll leave." Leaning forward, he says, "I know I'm not your favourite person, but I'm still your father. Is it wrong for me to visit my daughter in her own home? I'm trying to mend our relationship as father and daughter."

"Please," she snarled, the words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "You should have pondered long and hard about the consequences your action might have on our relationship before you chose to discard it in favour of instant gratification."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I am trying to make up for it." She stood up abruptly, her heart pounding in her chest. "Are we really back to this?" she challenged, struggling to keep her voice steady. "I've heard your apologies time and time again, but they can't erase the hurt of your betrayal against my mother."

"And what exactly are you apologising for? Are you sorry for being caught, or sorry for the act itself?"

"Both," he says.

“I couldn't care less about your apologies. I can't just forget, let alone forgive you for what you did. I mean, she could have been your own daughter, for crying out loud and the fact that she was our neighbour's daughter!" She stopped from her pace and looked at him. "Do you know what really gets to me? You never even apologized to Mom.”

"I never saw you apologize to her, not once and here you are telling me you are sorry." I don't think so."

Standing there with her arms folded tightly across her chest, gazing at her father with an icy stare. Shelley derives a sense of satisfaction from observing him struggle internally about whether to come closer to her or not. Despite recognizing the anguish her words were causing him, she remained resolute in her disregard for his feelings. His emotions mattered little to her; all she could think of was her mother, who truly deserved empathy and understanding.

"His voice was barely a whisper when his father finally spoke, almost as if he was afraid of being heard. "Sweetheart, I can't bring myself to apologise to your mom because I can't bear the thought of her forgiving me for what I've done. She's so quick to forgive, and I don't deserve it. I have to punish myself by denying her an apology. You have no idea how much I despise myself for tearing our family apart and losing your love and respect in the process. I'd give up everything to make things right. 'Everything, my love.'"

"I was a fool then, but I've changed now, and I'm really trying to be a better person. Please, just give me a chance," he says, with his hands on her shoulder and a look of sincere remorse in his eyes. As she looked at him, she couldn't help but wonder if his apology was genuine or just a ploy to win her forgiveness.

She shakes off his touch and makes her way to the sofa, his words weighing heavily on her mind. She can't help but mull over everything he just said. Finally, she met his gaze. "I don't know, Dad. I don't think I can forgive you right now. It's going to take time. And as much as you're carrying the burden of your mistakes, Mom needs to hear those words from you. She sometimes wonders if you still love her after all these years of being by your side. She still loves you, even though I question why sometimes." She let out a deep sigh and let herself fall back onto the sofa, staring ahead. "You need to make things right with her. That's the first step to fixing our broken family."

As he sat beside his daughter on the sofa, he gently took her hands in his and flashed a warm, appreciative smile. "I truly appreciate your wise words. I will definitely take your advice to heart," he says. Another smile graces his face as he looks at her. "Now, tell me, how is Ben doing?"

" She threw her hands in the air and exclaimed, "Oh, now you address him by his first name? I didn't realise you guys were buddies now. Don't bother asking about him, because I have no intention of satisfying your curiosity." With that, she stood up and made my way to the kitchen.

***

Ben stood in the spacious room, meticulously evaluating every aspect of the office building he was considering purchasing. The natural light streamed through the vast glass window, offering a panoramic view of the bustling town below. He turned to his associate, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he shared his thoughts. "Out of all the properties we've seen, this one truly captivates me. The layout is impressive, and the conference room is perfect for hosting important meetings and confidential discussions with clients. I envision this as the future home of Maradam & Associates, a prestigious and thriving law firm. As for my office, the seclusion of the room at the far end is precisely what I desire."

Nodding in the man's direction, I ask, "Do you think she'll love this?" The man responds with a question of his own: "Have you shared any of this with her?"

"No!", I replied. "Not yet." I redirected my gaze out the window, taking in the mesmerizing view below.