just said.
“Yeah.”
“And if something had happened to your mother while you were out clearing your goddamned head ?” he shouted. “What then, huh?”
Anger boiled in my blood. I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to try and keep the fury under control, but even as the taste of blood filled my mouth, I couldn’t keep it tamped down. The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Isn’t watching out for her supposed to be your job? You know, seeing as you’re her husband and all. But I guess you were too busy getting your dick wet last night to look after your wife!”
Before I was even able to comprehend his movement, pain sliced through my cheek, causing spots to blur over my vision. The force of his punch was strong, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet. I knew I could hurt him if I decided to fight back, but standing my ground would infuriate him even more. I straightened my back and stared my father down, fighting against the stomach-churning pain to keep steady on my feet. I could feel the warmth of blood dripping down from the cut he had opened on my cheekbone, and I refused to brush it away.
“You little piece of shit,” he seethed as he stepped up to me, his hot breath spreading over my face. “How dare you disrespect me in my own home?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re eighteen now, Parker. If you don’t straighten up, you’ll be out on the fucking street. I suggest you watch yourself.” I stood motionless as he reached out and wiped a smear of blood off his knuckles onto the front of my t-shirt. “Piss me off again and you’re gone. I don’t give a shit if your mother needs you.” He left without another word, slamming my bedroom door shut behind him.
I waited a few more seconds just to make sure he wasn’t coming back before reaching up and placing my hand on my throbbing cheek. It took everything in me not to crumble to my knees. Instead of breaking like I so desperately wanted to do, I used my hatred for my father to keep myself solid.
I. Would. Not. Break.
I’d woken Monday morning feeling more alive than I had in what seemed like forever. I slept harder and more peacefully that weekend than I had since Mom passed. When I opened my eyes, the early morning sunlight was filtering in through the open curtains of my bedroom window; the same window Parker had crawled through Friday night. A smile spread across my face as I stretched my limbs. I hadn’t seen him at all the rest of the weekend, but I knew he’d be at school, and I was anxious to get there.
I climbed out of the bed and went about my morning, feeling good about the day ahead of me.
“Good morning, honey.” I stumbled to a stop in the kitchen at the sound of my father’s voice. To say I was surprised to see him there would have been an understatement.
“Dad? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
He lowered his head and stared into his coffee cup like there was something fascinating about its contents.
“I was…” He stopped to clear his throat awkwardly. “I was thinking we could have breakfast together before you left for school.”
“Really?” My voice was high-pitched as the shock set in.
I stood there, frozen in place as my father sucked in a deep breath before doing something he hadn’t done in months. He turned and looked at me…right into my eyes, and I felt another tiny piece of myself fall back into place with that one simple act.
“I’ve been a lousy father, Freya...” I opened my mouth to try and argue, to tell him I understood, but his hand came up to stop me. “I know I have, and there’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. But I want to try and fix that, sweetie. That is, if you’ll let me.”
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, trying my hardest to hold back my tears. The emotions running through me as my father finally looked at me were overwhelming. “Yeah, Daddy. I
“Yeah.”
“And if something had happened to your mother while you were out clearing your goddamned head ?” he shouted. “What then, huh?”
Anger boiled in my blood. I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to try and keep the fury under control, but even as the taste of blood filled my mouth, I couldn’t keep it tamped down. The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Isn’t watching out for her supposed to be your job? You know, seeing as you’re her husband and all. But I guess you were too busy getting your dick wet last night to look after your wife!”
Before I was even able to comprehend his movement, pain sliced through my cheek, causing spots to blur over my vision. The force of his punch was strong, but I somehow managed to stay on my feet. I knew I could hurt him if I decided to fight back, but standing my ground would infuriate him even more. I straightened my back and stared my father down, fighting against the stomach-churning pain to keep steady on my feet. I could feel the warmth of blood dripping down from the cut he had opened on my cheekbone, and I refused to brush it away.
“You little piece of shit,” he seethed as he stepped up to me, his hot breath spreading over my face. “How dare you disrespect me in my own home?” When I didn’t respond, he continued, “You’re eighteen now, Parker. If you don’t straighten up, you’ll be out on the fucking street. I suggest you watch yourself.” I stood motionless as he reached out and wiped a smear of blood off his knuckles onto the front of my t-shirt. “Piss me off again and you’re gone. I don’t give a shit if your mother needs you.” He left without another word, slamming my bedroom door shut behind him.
I waited a few more seconds just to make sure he wasn’t coming back before reaching up and placing my hand on my throbbing cheek. It took everything in me not to crumble to my knees. Instead of breaking like I so desperately wanted to do, I used my hatred for my father to keep myself solid.
I. Would. Not. Break.
I’d woken Monday morning feeling more alive than I had in what seemed like forever. I slept harder and more peacefully that weekend than I had since Mom passed. When I opened my eyes, the early morning sunlight was filtering in through the open curtains of my bedroom window; the same window Parker had crawled through Friday night. A smile spread across my face as I stretched my limbs. I hadn’t seen him at all the rest of the weekend, but I knew he’d be at school, and I was anxious to get there.
I climbed out of the bed and went about my morning, feeling good about the day ahead of me.
“Good morning, honey.” I stumbled to a stop in the kitchen at the sound of my father’s voice. To say I was surprised to see him there would have been an understatement.
“Dad? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
He lowered his head and stared into his coffee cup like there was something fascinating about its contents.
“I was…” He stopped to clear his throat awkwardly. “I was thinking we could have breakfast together before you left for school.”
“Really?” My voice was high-pitched as the shock set in.
I stood there, frozen in place as my father sucked in a deep breath before doing something he hadn’t done in months. He turned and looked at me…right into my eyes, and I felt another tiny piece of myself fall back into place with that one simple act.
“I’ve been a lousy father, Freya...” I opened my mouth to try and argue, to tell him I understood, but his hand came up to stop me. “I know I have, and there’s no excuse for how I’ve been acting. I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. But I want to try and fix that, sweetie. That is, if you’ll let me.”
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered, trying my hardest to hold back my tears. The emotions running through me as my father finally looked at me were overwhelming. “Yeah, Daddy. I
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