It's Terribly Perfect.

7. It's Terribly Perfect: The Past is the Past.

Tyler couldn’t take it anymore as he shook free of my mother’s hold. He balled up his fists and took a step forward, facing our father.

“Why the hell are you back? Who do you think you are?” he shouted at him.

“Tyler,” my mom went to pull him back. I grabbed her wrist, shaking my head and making her step back. Tyler needed to yell. He held almost everything in about our dad throughout the years; he needed to let it out now.

“You think it’s alright to leave your children after abusing their mother? We were kids, waiting for our dad to come back. Every time the phone rang, whenever there was a knock at the door, we hoped and prayed it was you! But it never was! You left, telling us you’d be back in a week. It’s been a hell of a lot longer than a week if you hadn’t noticed! What the hell is wrong with you?” Tyler held nothing back this time. Tears were leaking from his eyes, his body shaking. “Why are you here?” he said quietly this time.

“I made a mistake,” our dad replied, his head down. I laughed coldly, pulling my arm away from Ryan and walking to stand by Tyler.

“Hell yeah you did. Did it really take you nine years to figure that out?” I snapped. Usually my mother would scold us about the language we were using, but right now she wasn’t very concerned.

“Kasynne, you have to understand-“he began.

“Understand what?” My voice grew louder, shrill. “That you bruised and beat the woman you were supposed to love? Or that you would make your children scared out of their minds every night you’d come home drunk, yelling and banging around? Or maybe that you couldn’t straighten up enough to be a dad so you just left? Please, explain to me how I should understand the reason for any of the above,” I spat at him. He looked hurt, but he deserved every little thing we were throwing at him.

“You shouldn’t. I was wrong, I know. There’s no excuse for what I did.” His voice was different from last time I heard it. It was gruff, throatier.

“No shit, Sherlock,” my brother mumbled angrily.

“Tyler, that’s enough,” our mother demanded.

“You need to leave,” I said to the man I didn’t consider a father. He looked away, like there was something he wasn’t saying.

“He’s staying here, Kasynne,” my mother whispered timidly.

“What?” I hissed, spinning on my heels to face her. “What do you mean he’s staying here?”

“Exactly what I said,” she replied firmly. “Marcus, “she paused, “I mean your father is staying in the guest room.” I scrunched up my nose, becoming frustrated at my mother.

“Why?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I want to help,” my dad spoke up. “With the baby, the finances and such, and a car if you need one.” I scoffed at him.

“I don’t need anything from you.” I caught hold of Ryan’s arm, his stance awkward as he listened to our family drama. “I’m going to my room.”

“I should go home,” Ryan said as I started to tow him off. Mom stood in front of me.

“Yes, you should,” she agreed, shooting him an apologetic glance. She appeared more upset about him leaving than I did.

He squeezed my hand as he headed for the door. I grunted, storming upstairs and slamming my bedroom door shut after I went in. Tyler came to join me not long after, still steaming.

“Well, there’s one good thing that came out of this,” he said as he settled on my bed. I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly. “You were wrong.” He smirked It took me a second to realize he was referring to last night when I told him Marcus wasn’t coming back.