Duplicity [h.s]

83

trigger warning— abuse with descriptive violence for the first half of the chapter. second half is fine :)

Harry Styles

My fingers grazed through the white porcelain keys of the grand piano, the repetitive melodies of heartache flooding the first floor of our echoing house. My fingers started to become stiff, my vocal cords going raw as I continued harmonizing with the song that brought my father so much happiness. The  uniform tie around my neck was tight, harsh on my throat at times like this. I sometimes forget to loosen it before I start playing for the few hours.

I've played this song twenty-nine times so far, any more and I'm going to have a raspy sore throat tomorrow.

Hallelujah, a song I know inside out.

My father's only way of feeling connected to my mother again is when I play this song. She loved the piano, so therefore I need to love it too.

When I get to the end of the song, my fingers started loosening on the keys. After every repeat of the song, I hoped it was the last. I always waited for his halting words to tell me to bugger off and go do something else, they just seemed to never come that easily. He had me play until he thought it was enough—but tonight wasn't a good night for this.

I ended off round twenty-nine of the song, my fingertips hurting when I pulled them off the eclectic keys full of history.

I just wanted to go to sleep and be alone. My mind couldn't fixate off of Beth and what happened last night. I was so miserable and anxious, just needing to debrief. Every time I thought of her and what happened, I felt a sickness in my stomach and an ache in my throat.

"I didn't say stop." I heard his rugged voice from his chair in the back corner of the room, not liking how I wasn't starting from the top of the song again.

I kept my head down at the keys, chest heavy while I broke a sweat at the back of my neck. It percolated in the white-collar of my button-up uniform shirt. I parted my lips to speak, everything coming out stammered in guilt.

"I'm not feeling well...can I...just go to bed?" I kept my head down, my back slouched in my seat on the black piano bench.

"You're done when I say you're done." He says back with the coldness his voice naturally had for just me.

I breathed, "I know, I'm sorry—I just...I had a really bad day at school. I promise I'll play longer tomorrow."

I didn't want to turn and look at him sitting behind me, I just kept my head down while trying to be as polite as a could so he would simply let me go off for the night. I physically just couldn't sit here and play any longer when I was sick to the stomach over my experience with Beth last night.

The silence flooded the room, my stomach aching at the absence of response. My head was spinning with thoughts of Beth, my heart racing over the fact he hasn't responded yet. I didn't want to make him mad, I just wanted to go to sleep and try to forget everything.

I heard him get up out of his chair and very slowly step up to me in his polished dress shoes he wears around the house. My stomach twisted as I listened to the souls getting near. Anytime he got close to me, my whole body tensed up. I was so nervous around him in tight vicinities.

He placed his hand on the back of my neck, holding it firmly with an exhale. I shut my eyes at the contact, keeping my head down while he stood tall behind me.

"Is it Bethany?" He said in a somewhat calmer tone, one I wasn't quite used to.

I breathed, not knowing what to say. He doesn't know anything about what happened between her and I last night, I was too scared to ever tell him. He never was too keen on the idea of seeing a girl, especially knowing I was being intimate with one before marriage.