The Babysitter

28

I decided to go visit my parents today. It's been some time since I saw them, and today's weather is okay. So I informed Royce that I was going, and he didn't let me go without a bodyguard, so Enzo came with me, but he didn't come inside - he just stood out waiting for me to finish. I was excited to see them, I missed them, it's been a while since what happened last time... God, I don't want to remember.

And last night... after what happened with Royce, I don't know how to explain the feelings I got. Would I want to do it again?
Yes. I definitely would. My eyes widened at the realization that hit me at what I was saying. What! That's naughty, I can't think like that! I felt my cheeks burn from embarrassment, but I pushed all my thoughts aside when I saw my parents' house where we had arrived.

I was kinda nervous at first. I shouldn't be - it's the house I was raised in - but anxiety and my overthinking always get the best out of me.

I knocked on the door softly, but no one opened, so I knocked again, this time harder, and after a few seconds the door flew open and I was met by my mom. Her eyes widened as if she didn't expect me to come here. She opened her arms and pulled me into a hug. I missed her, I do.

I pull out of the hug. "Hello, Mom." I give her a small smile, which she returns when she speaks.

"Tate, it's so good to see you, I missed you so much."

I go inside and we chat a bit before Dad comes into the room and I go hug him. His hug was different, and the way he talked to me was too. He changed so much. Fresh tears sprang to my eyes, but I refused to let them go. I didn't want him to see me crying because of ℎ𝑖𝑚.

While we were talking, something changed. The tension shifted in the air, and their faces and expressions changed. Dad got a call about something related to business.

Mom got angry because he was about to go do something with his work. God, why did I come here? Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do...

They were mad. Furious, if I'm being real.
I'd never seen them like this before.

My mom and dad were the definition of real love in my eyes. I used to say they were perfect. When I grew up, I wanted someone to love me the way they loved each other.

But I guess I was wrong. Really wrong.

"I'm the man! I can do whatever the fuck I want! Stop fucking telling me what to do, woman!"

"I don't care! You don't understand that what you're doing is wrong and even dangerous. Think about your daughter's safety! You can't be serious right now!"

Mama's voice cracked. She'd been yelling, but now it was almost a whisper.

I ran, trying to find the closest room, mind blank, tears streaming down my face. My heart pounded so fast it felt like I'd been running for miles.

The worst part?
He didn't care about me.
Only about the money.
Only about the dirty job he was tangled in.

Because the next words he said cut through me like a blade. "Listen to me carefully. I don't care about anything you say. I'm not leaving this damn job no matter what. Like it or not, I'm not quitting."

𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑦'𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 - 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 "𝑤𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙'𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡." 𝐼 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼'𝑚 𝑡𝑜𝑜 𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑣𝑒. 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡... 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦. 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡. 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑚𝑎𝑚𝑎 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜 𝑤𝑎𝑦 ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒. 𝐼𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑛𝑜𝑤.