Letters For Indie

~Chapter 3~

Hurtful words fluttered around my mouth, and it took all of my willpower to keep them in. How could he? How did he even have the heart to do such a thing?

My mother, the woman who was deliriously in love with this man, was dead. And now he's off in his own, happy realm with someone else?

I set down my utensils and picked up a tablecloth to wipe my mouth. Martin took a seat across from me and his nervous, dark brown eyes were met with my own.

He knew I was mad.

No, I was furious.

But, I chose not to show it.

Not because I didn't want to put his relationship on the line. Because I knew that my mom would've wanted me to be patient, and try to get along with my father.

"Please don't do this," his desperate look seemed to say. "Not now."

"I'm happy my dad has you," I rambled quickly, before I regretted my own words.

Martin's jittery hands relaxed. Jewel smiled her perfect, genuine smile, causing vines of envy to creep up my heart.

"Indie, you're going to love it here. I just know it," she chirped in the most annoying of sing-song voices, "It's the perfect place for a teenage girl like you to be growing up. So much to do, so much to see, so little time!"

Martin leaned back on his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

"Why don't you take a look around town, honey? I would take you myself, but there's still a few things waiting to be finished in the office."

Huh, excuses.

"Ooh, Indie, you better check out the burger place on the corner of Grove and Point. You'll be dying to try their double stack surprise!" Jewel chanted.

"And while you're there, can you pick up some lunch of all three of us?"

I nodded and rose from my seat. Jewel took my plate and started clearing the table.

"Well, I'll just leave you girls to it." Martin stood up and left the dining room, kissing his girlfriend on the way out.

Ok, gross. I need to wash my eyeballs.

"Excuse me, I need to finish unpacking." I said shakily, trying to break the awkward silence.

Jewel didn't answer, and instead she yanked on an apron that read Kiss The Cook and strapped it to her waist. She began scrubbing the dishes while humming a song that I couldn't make out. I took that as my que to leave, ran up the stairs and locked myself inside my room.

If I had to eat every single meal with those two and undergo the same small talk each time, god help me. I collapsed on the queen-sized bed in the center of the small room, and watched the ceiling fan go in circles.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Before I got here, this was the guest bedroom. And that's all I'll ever be here --a guest.

A stranger to my own father. An intruder in his new life.

I propped myself up on one elbow and reached for my phone.

Ring, ring, ring.

"Hello? Des?"

The person whom you have reached is currently unavailable. At the tone, please leave your message, press one for --

I cut the phone and glanced outside through the window. Why was I even here?

My aunt Marie would have welcomed me with open arms, and I would have never even thought twice about Martin and his stupid beach house and his fake girlfriend.

The only reason I'm here with the father that shut me out of his life is because she wanted it.

For my mom.

I've stepped foot in this house with mindset goals.

I'm here to finish high school smoothly, get my diploma, and then walk through the door and forget this stupid town.

Forget that I was ever here, and that I even crossed paths with the man I've been dreading since forever.