Through You

Chapter 18 - The Dawn of a Misunderstanding

Jeanne and Daniel, deeply asleep on the couch, were abruptly awakened by the sharp sound of the front door slamming. Jeanne immediately jumped up, panicked, and threw a t-shirt at Daniel, who hastily put it on without even noticing that he was wearing it inside out. His wrinkled jeans and disheveled hair only added to the impression of chaos.

The man who had just entered the room was imposing, and his stern gaze immediately landed on the two young people. His eyebrows furrowed, carving deep lines into his forehead. Jeanne straightened up, feeling uneasy, trying to compose an innocent expression, while Daniel stood beside her, still half-dazed from sleep.

"Who’s that?" the man asked in a deep voice, pointing at Daniel with a nod of his chin.

Jeanne swallowed, feeling the tension rise in the room. "A… a friend, Dad. This is Daniel." Her voice betrayed a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

Daniel, impressed by Jeanne’s father’s stature, cautiously approached and extended his hand to introduce himself. The man grabbed it brusquely and shook it with a firm grip, his cold eyes scanning Daniel from head to toe.

"Your t-shirt’s inside out," he remarked dryly, his eyes narrowing.

Daniel glanced down at his shirt and realized the mistake. A sheepish smile spread across his lips as he nodded and stepped back to fix it. When he was done, he turned to Jeanne, feeling uneasy in the tense atmosphere. "I’ll head out, Jeanne. See you later?"

Jeanne, disappointed to see Daniel leave so soon, slowly nodded, her eyes expressing a sadness she couldn’t hide. She walked him to the door, their silent exchange betraying their mutual frustration. Before he left, Jeanne grabbed Daniel’s t-shirt, pulling their bodies just inches apart. She placed her lips close to his and whispered, "Sorry, sometimes my dad can be a real jerk."

Daniel smirked, amused by the situation, and then kissed her softly, prolonging the kiss as if he wanted to make the moment last as long as possible. When they pulled apart, he gave her one last tender look before leaving the house. Jeanne closed the door behind him, leaning against it, her mind troubled by the events of the morning.

Her father, who had been silently observing the scene, let out a sigh heavy with reproach. Jeanne turned to face him, already feeling the inevitable confrontation looming.

"What was that all about?" he asked coldly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You let a boy sleep over now? And in this state I find you both in…"

Jeanne rolled her eyes, annoyed by his accusatory tone. "Dad, stop. Daniel is just a friend."

"A friend? Is that what you expect me to believe? With that inside-out shirt and wrinkled clothes? Do you think I’m an idiot?" His voice grew louder with each word, heavy with judgment.

Frustrated, Jeanne met her father’s gaze. "You don’t even know him, and you’re already judging. Nothing happened between us, it was just… a quiet evening."

Her father shook his head, skeptical. "A quiet evening? With a boy I don’t know, leaving your house at dawn, half-dressed? Don’t take me for a fool, Jeanne. I raised you better than that."

His words hit her like a punch. "You raised me better than that?" she repeated, incredulous. "What does that even mean, exactly? That I don’t have the right to a little freedom? That I can’t have friends?" Her voice trembled with indignation.

"You can have friends, but not like this! This isn’t how I taught you to behave!" he exclaimed, his fists clenching. "It’s about respect, Jeanne."

Jeanne, hurt by his words, felt a quiet anger rising within her. "Respect? And you, do you respect me, Dad? Do you think you can barge in like this, talk to me in that tone, and dictate my life? Is that what respect means to you?"

Her father, surprised by her sharp response, stayed silent for a moment. "I’m not dictating anything, Jeanne. I’m protecting you, that’s all. You’re still young, you don’t understand what boys can want."

Jeanne burst into bitter laughter. "Oh, so that’s it. Boys, those terrible predators you have to save me from? Daniel’s not like that, Dad. He’s respectful, and he cares about me for who I am. You don’t know him, so stop judging people without knowing them."

Silence fell between them, heavy and suffocating. Her father stared at her, his face hardening. "I won’t apologize for wanting what’s best for you, Jeanne. I may not trust you with this kind of thing because I know how it can end."

"And what?" Jeanne shot back, her eyes flashing with anger. "You want to keep me locked up here until you’re sure there’s no chance I’ll make a mistake? Because that’s what this is. You think I’m going to screw up, don’t you? Like I’m not capable of making my own choices!"

Her father, visibly troubled, rubbed his temples. "I never said you were incapable, Jeanne, but look at this situation. How would it have looked if your mother had come home instead of me? What would she have thought, huh?"

Jeanne felt a lump form in her throat. "Stop bringing Mom into this..." she whispered.

Jeanne’s father sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the argument. "I just don’t want you to make choices you might regret, that’s all. I know you better than you think, and I don’t want you to suffer."

Jeanne, touched by his words, let her anger subside, though she couldn’t completely erase the resentment. "Dad… you have to let me live. I’m not a child anymore. I know what I’m doing, and I won’t rush into stupid decisions. You have to learn to trust me."

He looked at her for a long moment before slowly nodding. "Maybe… maybe I overreacted. But I won’t apologize for wanting to protect you."

Jeanne approached him, searching for common ground. "I understand that you worry. But you have to understand too that I’m growing up, and you won’t always be able to protect me. Trust me, okay?"

Her father nodded, his expression softening. "Okay… But just promise me you’ll be careful."

Jeanne gave him a faint smile, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "I promise."

They stood in silence for a moment, the tension gradually fading, each understanding the other a little better.