Page 34 of Something Blue

I miss my mother.

I miss her more than anything right now.

In fact, if I think back, my dad only become this way after the cancer stole her from us fifteen years ago. He was never this cold before that.

The thought breaks my heart. My dad became this way to numb himself. To distract himself from losing the woman he loved dearly.

I stand up and walk over to him.

“Dad?” I say gently.

He turns to look at me with surprise in his eyes. “Neve?” He replies.

“Dad, I think you need to take a few breaths and calm down for a while. The doctor already warned you that your blood pressure was through the roof. You need to sit - for a bit.” I gently touch his arm and try to lure him towards the sofa. “I can make you some tea.”

“I don’t fucking want any tea, girl. I want to sort out this fucking mess.”

I cringe away from him. My brother shakes his head.

“Neve’s right. You’re going to give yourself a stroke.” He snaps at my father and storms from the room.

Knowing my father became this way after losing my mother doesn’t make it any easier to deal with emotionally when he treats me like shit.

I am so desperate for a hug, an embrace, a kind word. Some kind of softness from him that lets me know the man who raised me is still in there somewhere and not only this hard-shelled political robot.

Everything is falling apart around me, my entire life crumbling, and I don’t know how to fix it. I’m still grieving the murder of my finance - yes. Murder. I don’t care what the news said. I think he was killed.

AndI think Celso had something to do with those photos of my father being leaked.

And no one will listen to me about it.

But what good would it do, anyway?

It wouldn’t bring Damion back.

It wouldn’t undo the leaked images.

Things would still be a total shit show.

Maybe everything should fall apart. Maybe we need to lose everything.

Along with the house and the constant media attention - I would also lose the overbearing rules that have been drowning me for the last fifteen years. I could live my life instead of living my father’s life. His version of who I should be and what I should do.

I can’t sit here anymore. I’m driving myself crazy and there is no point in all of us going crazy.

“I need air.” I mutter, walking out of the living room.

As though she read my mind - Dalila phones.

“Hi.” I say tightly.

“Oh wow, is it that bad?” She asks.

“It’s worse. I don’t know how to handle this, and he won’t listen to anyone he’s so freaking stubborn.”

“I know all about stubborn. Meet meat Da’Vinci.”

“Now?” I look around myself as though I have to ask for permission from someone.

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