Sorry for short chapter. I had like, no time to write anything defined as 'decent.'
Songs for this chapter:
Wings – Birdy
River Flows In You – Yiruma
–
"So, Henry, what do you do for living?" I heard my father ask. His accent was thick, but his English was good for a person who didn't even speak the language four years ago.
"Harry. My name is Harry, sir." Harry politely reminded him. "I study at the University of Michigan like Connie, and I work at a the local pub right now though next semester I'm going to teach Ethics in High School."
"That's...nice."
Dinner after that was just a continuous, awkward silence. No matter how much I hate when someone played with the food and scratching the fork against the plate myself, I couldn't help but do just that as I thought about what Harry told just a few minutes ago, after I told him what happened that day.
"You have to ask him," he said.
He believed that maybe my father didn't do anything, that it was just a big misunderstanding. But with that misunderstanding, my mother and sister were gone.
Harry didn't want me to blame it all on my father, and I didn't. I knew it was partly my fault for agreeing to look for him on that day, but did not mean I would stop blaming and hating on him. He was also the reason my mother couldn't live without crying every ten minutes.
"Connie, what happened? Stop playing with your food. When you were younger you'd finish everything in a blink." My father scolded me.
"Yeah, not anymore." I said under my breath.
"Why not?" He asked, seeming confused. "You used to love eating. For this I'd always tell you that you were fat, almost obese."
"And I listened to you, aren't you happy?" I asked sarcastically. The reason while I stopped eating were far from what he would say to me when I was younger but I would never admit it to him.
I heard him taking a deep breath before speaking, "listen, if it's because of the death of mot—"
"Don't you dare mention them!" I screamed, standing up from my seat. With the corner of my eyes, I noticed Harry standing as well but he said nothing as I continued. "It was your fault, only yours!"
"You cannot blame me for them dying. I wasn't the one driving," he defended himself.
"But you were the reason the car crashed!"
"It's not my fault that—"
"It is your fault! Stop say that it isn't because you know damn well too that it is your fucking fault! You first broke my mom's heart, then you destroyed our family, then you killed them! How can this not be your fault?"
"Connie, I was—"
"You don't get make up excuses now. You already made so many years ago when everything was going down hill. Now tell me, father, were those even true?"
"I was just getting tired of your mom. I didn't want to cause no harm."
"I asked a question. No explanation. Did you fucking cheat on mom or not?"
"But—"
"It's not a difficult question. Either is yes or no. Just answer."
"I...yes, I did." He admitted quietly. I inhaled deeply, not sure if that was the answer I was expecting. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out as my throat went dry and let my arms fall on my sides, hopeless.
With the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Harry, who was now standing next to me, not even noticing he took a tight hold of my hand. He was the one breaking the silence, with a mad, even voice. "I think it's better if we go now."
He gently pushed me towards the stairs, not letting that man say anything back. If it wasn't for Harry, I'd probably would have been so shocked and raged about all the events that kept happening, that I wouldn't have been able to move from my spot in the living room. He didn't say anything as I stood there on the threshold, absently studying Harry packing the few clothes we brought over.
We went down a few minutes later, his luggages all set, my mind far from it. He was still standing there on the room, looking down at the parquet floor. And that's when I realized it.
That was the last time I'd be seeing who I once saw as the figure of a father.
A father who would make me smile, laugh, happy. A father who taught me to ride the bike and get up every time I'd fall. He could have been considered my best friend, my rock, the one person who gave up everything for me. But also a father who hurt me as much as I loved him.
But the one in front of me was not my father anymore. He was now a stranger to my eyes, my bones, my mind, my heart.
"Connie–"
"She will not hear your lame ass excuses over again. I hope you are happy to what you've done to your own family." Harry cut him off, gritting his teeth. "Dead and alive."
I saw him opening his mouth to say something, maybe fire something back at Harry telling he knew nothing. But the fact was, Harry knew more than my own father ever cared for the past years. Without a second thought I approached the door, not before turning around to face him, looking at him with cold eyes.
"Do you know how much I wish I was the dead one? Every single day. Do you know how much I tried to think you didn't do it? That you wouldn't hurt my mother like that, that you wouldn't break us apart like that. I guess I was wrong. You are not my father anymore, I will not consider myself as the daughter of a cheater, assassin, selfish bastard. Goodbye."
With that, I harshly closed the door, not even wincing when the sound of the slamming door echoed through my ears. We quickly put everything on the trunk before jumping in the rented car just outside.
"Con," I heard Harry whispering. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean this to happen. If you hate me now I understand." He murmured, bringing his hand on my knee.
"You couldn't know what could have happened down there. It's not your fault," I said, squeezing his hand softly.
"Neither is yours." He breathed against my lips before pressing a quick peck on them.
And with no definite destination, Harry started driving.
–
I'm starting university tomorrow. Literally gonna die.
Like I met this guy two days ago and we made out the whole night today and omg sorry I just felt like telling this because it's like the first time someone has wanted me k bye
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