Speak.

VIII.

Nervous and standing at the front door, I knocked three times. I expected no one would answer, but I  was wrong. When the door opened, I saw my mother. She looked pale and her eyes were red and puffy. She jumped at me and hugged me so tightly I thought I'd faint.

''Mom...'', I whispered gasping for air.

''Oh! I'm sorry honey'', she put a loving hand on my cheek, giving that sad puppy look. Sigh...I felt that this would be a long day.

''Where's dad?'' I asked, pushing aside the heaviness of my heart, sinking in.

She didn't answer right away. I sensed like she was trying to avoid giving me a response. She was shaking, like she was afraid of saying too much. What was going on?

''Darling, I need to know if you're ok'', she said with a tear rolling down her face. My mother was dead worried about me and I excluded her as usual. It wasn't fair for her; she didn't deserve any of this. This was between me and my father, and she was in the middle, being the referee of this bloody war.

''I'm fine, really'', I assured her, looking at her straight, without blinking. ''You don't have to worry''.

She laughed sadly, shaking her head, as if I told her a joke. When she looked at me, she gave me the warmest of her smiles.

''It's my job to make sure you're safe'', she pointed the stairs, indicating me where my father was.

Walking through the hall,  turning left, I found him seated in his big chair, deeply focused on his book. It was one the many traits I've inherited from him: the passion for books, the smell of the pages, the feeling of being in another place...I smiled at the thought.

''Dad...'', I started, but he cut me off already.

''So, after your childish behaviour, you came back'', he kept on reading, not rising his eyes from the book. ''I expect you have a good excuse this time''.

I wanted to punch him in the face. Hard. Hitting him to come back to his senses hard. I wanted to yell at him and tell him I was the owner of my path and I had the choice in my hands. I wanted to tell him he was an idiot for not believing in me, and never supported me when I needed the most. I wanted to...

''I don't have any excuse; I just came here to tell you that I'm leaving'', I breathed. ''I can't be living under the same roof as you. You've never told me how proud you are, or never encouraged me for my goals, or never supported me in anything'', I closed my eyes as I said my last words to him.

''I love you and I forgive you, but you've hurt me in a way that made me see beyond these walls, that this isn't the place where I belong. So, I came here to tell you that I'm leaving''.

I heard a crash behind me and I saw the broken glasses my mom let fall to the floor. She heard us. I turned to see my father staring back at me with mixed emotions I couldn't describe, but I sensed he was shocked and without words. I got out of there and walked in to my room to pack some of my clothes. I'd fetch the rest once I got settled. That was the part I hadn't figured out yet. But I didn't care that much: I had to start somewhere but here.

My mom came in trying, begging, crying, asking me to stay, to talk to him, to tell him I made a mistake. I knew what she was trying to do: justifying his actions by implying it was my fault he was being this way. I breathed deeply, staying firm.

I hugged her and broke the hug quickly. It hurt me to leave her, but I had to do this. I walked down the stairs with my suitcase, got out and didn't look back, not even once. The smell of humidity hit me in the nose, and seconds later, it started to rain. I walked down to street, knowing I'd catch a cold for getting wet.

''This is awesome! Just like a freaking movie!'' I yelled, ''Now what? Will a guy come out from nowhere and pick me up or something?''

''And his dog too!'' A voice yelled back.

I turned around and there he was: all soaked with that stupid smile I secretly liked. Thor was barking happily. Seemed to him that it was a fun way to get wet.

''What are you doing here?''

''What do you think? We came to pick you up, we're going home''.

''It's your home, not mine'', I crossed my arms. ''I'm just crashing there for a few days until I find out what to do''.

''And then what?'' He asked laughing.

I wasn't going to answer. It was just a mind game I wasn't looking forward to play. He came closer and closer until he was standing in front of me.

''And then what?'', he whispered. ''Don't run away from me. Every time I get close, you get scared and turn to the other way. And I get it, okay?'', he took my hand and put it on his chest.

''Let me be your home for now. Allow me to be by your side while you heal. Let me hold your hand if you wanna let go''.

Sigh. He was crazy. No matter how long I'd run, he'd follow. Not matter how many times I pushed him, ignored him, telling him to back off, he always returned with that smile. My heart was giving in, and I was fighting with all my strength. But he was crushing down my walls bit by bit.

For once in my whole life, I hugged him first. He was caught off guard at first, but then he hugged me back. I was cold, and trembling like crazy, but somehow that hug was warm and comfortable.

''Home'', I said over his shoulder.

''Home'', he repeated stroking my hair.

We didn't say a word afterwards. For once, it felt right. I was going home.