Page 38 of The Dark Obsession

“Please come back,” I say quietly.

He creases his eyebrows at me, the lines on his head visible for the first time. His plump lips pull together to force a smile before he waves me off.

I take that as my time to exit his vehicle. I placed his jacket onto the seat before I walk towards my house. The door is open before I get there. My father’s ashen face awaits there; his shoulders are slumped, his greying brown hair messy and unkempt. I turn to take one last glimpse at Rafael, but he’s already gone.

I refocus on my father, my hands shaking and throat aching. So many emotions bubble to the surface. First, love, to just see my father’s warm face. Next, shock, as his usual tidy appearance is worn and tired. And finally, the almighty rib-crumbling pain. My tears turn into a smudge of mascara on his shoulder. I regret not seeing him enough. I regret not seeing her enough. Her—

My father squeezes me hard, then pulls me into the house. “Darling,” he says with a cry. “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Father. How are you holding up?”

“I’m still breathing. Your mother had been threatening to leave for so long I just thought she had finally found someone and left.” He chuckles through his tears.

“I love you,” I cry out, losing myself in tears.

He enters the kitchen, and I click on the kettle and sit at the table. His fingers tap noisily as he sits opposite me. I stare at the kettle, the loud hum of the slowly boiling water helping me focus.

“Ben told me you have a tall, blonde hunk of a boyfriend.”

I snuff out a laugh with a cough, my eyes wide with astonishment. I forgot Benjamin doesn’t know, and has absolutely no idea of the hurt Dale was causing me, that he punched my boss in the face yesterday, or that Dale won’t leave me alone and that’s why I slept at Rafael’s.

“No, Father. I’m not. I just saw him a couple times.” I stand and busying myself with making tea before my poker face cracks.

“From what Ben said, you and this blonde bloke are getting on very well.” My father’s cheeks blush a crimson red.

“What has Benjamin told you?” I stomp around the kitchen, getting sugar from the cupboard and slamming the door.

“Not much, just that you are an unstoppable force when it came to ‘getting some.’ And that he doesn’t approve much.” My father makes a huge effort to sound casual and humorous as he inquires about my life.

“It wasn’t like that.” I turn from his view, my face burning hot as memories of Dale collapse on me. “It was just a fling.”

“Just be careful,” he mumbles, his voice a pitch higher than usual. “Your mother was just like you, you know. Knew what she wanted and got it, too.”

The lump in my throat blocks my airways. I can’t talk. Hearing about how my mother ‘was’ and not ‘is’ somehow makes it more real.

I hand my father his tea, and we sit opposite each other in silence. I hear movement from upstairs; Benjamin must be coming down soon. I ready my argument with Ben for telling father about my love life. I’m ready to spurt out that the perfect Angel Benjamin has several different girls over each week. But then again, my father will probably be proud.

“Rosa, how was your sleepover with your boss?” Benjamin asks loudly on his way down the stairs.

“Sleepover with your boss?” my father repeats curiously.

“I had to work late, and then I remembered you were coming, so I thought you’d rather sleep in a comfy bed,” I say defensively to my father.

My father grins as he sips from his cup.

Benjamin rubs our father’s shoulder. He moves around and sits on the chair next to our father. “You okay, Dad?”

“I’m okay, son. I’m just grateful I have you both.”

My father and brother have always had a much closer and more fun relationship. Benjamin is both my parent’s pride and joy. Firstborn, of course, he’s absolutely perfect in their eyes.

I watch with a frown as Ben hugs my father, then heads towards the kettle as he asks me, “Will you be working today?”

“I’m not sure. Rafael will call me.” I check my phone and see it is 10:30 a.m. already. I get up in a hurry, desperate to jump in the hot shower and cry where no one can see me.

I hop up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and rush into my bathroom, undress fast, and only turn on the hot water. The bathroom slowly steams up. I stare into the mirror, my fingers tracing the light brown circles around my eyes. My face is much paler than it was three days ago. My hair is a curly mess. I drag my brush through it, letting the pain on my scalp ease the agony in my heart.

I step into the burning heat of my shower and sigh as the water stings and runs down my back. I lean against the wall, watching the water induce a red glow on my chest. The running water disguises the tears streaming down my face. My shoulders shudder with each ragged breath I try to take, and I fall to my knees, unable to hold myself together anymore. My arms wrap around my legs, holding myself in a ball and letting my pain run free.

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