Page 30 of The Loathing

Well. Sort of.

I smirk to myself as I pull my fiery red hair into a high ponytail, my loose curls tumbling down my back as I secure it with my hair tie.

Some may say I am being a pushover, but when your father is sitting in front of you basically close to tears something has to give.

But don’t you worry, fiery Amora is still tucked safely inside ready to rear her ugly head when needed.

I dressed in jeans and a tee, the spring air was still had a certain coolness to it, but it was nice to see the sun shining more and more as the weeks went on. I sat at my large, ornate dressing table and flicked my lashes with mascara, then adding a light pink blush to my cheeks.

That’s as far as I go when it comes to make-up.

Opening my door, I make my way downstairs to find my mother and father. Pushing into the kitchen I see them both sitting at the small table that sits to the left of the patio doors that opens onto the gardens. My father’s hand is clasped over the top of my mother’s. His eyes are pinned to her but she is looking forward, watching her meadow of flowers blowing in the soft wind.

“Morning,” I say quietly, reaching for a teacup and tiptoeing over to where they were sitting.

“Morning darling,” my mother turns, giving me a soft smile but I can see the worry in her eyes.

“Princess,” my father croons, lifting his cup to his lips as he takes a mouthful.

“What time does Tyrone fly in?”

“Titus,” my father grits.

“Oh, yes, Titus,” I nod, rubbing my lips together as I try and hide my smirk. I lean forward, grabbing the tea pot and pouring myself a tea. Placing it down gently I add my milk and one cube of sugar.

“This afternoon,” my father’s voice is tight and I can’t help but worry that something has developed.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, slowly lifting my cup to my lips as I take my own mouthful.

“Yes, darling,” my mother gives me a reassuring nod. “Just enjoying the quiet.”

“Okay.” I take that as my cue to stop talking and just embrace this moment.

It lasts all of three minutes.

“I’m back to work on Monday,” I gently say, reminding my father that I won’t stay under lock and key when it comes to my job.

“I am fully aware Amora,” my father’s tone has bite to it.

“And Tyler can stay home, right? I’ll be with Uncle Carter. Not forgetting Uncle Taron and Conor will be there somewhere,” I try and sweet talk him, but who am I kidding.

“Titus,” he snaps, his ice-cold glare on me.

I give him an apologetic shrug, my lips pursing into a smile and I see my mother give me the side eye, her own lips twitching.

“And no, Titus cannot stay home. We have been over this Amora and I’ll be honest my patience is wearing thin.”

I roll my lips, feeling guilty suddenly for antagonizing him. I nod, keeping silent. A loud sigh vibrates past his lips.

“I’m not a monster Amora, I know this is a shit situation to be in and I hate that I am having to put you in it, but this is the hand we’ve been dealt. I will get everything sorted and you can have your life back, but please, just do as you’re told.”

I still stay quiet. I have no words. I manage a gentle nod as I finish my cup of tea. My father’s glare is still penetrating through me, but I don’t look up. After what feels like an hour of silence another heavy sigh leaves him and I hear the sound of the wooden chair scraping along the tiles. He leans down, his fingers wrapped round the back of my mother’s chair as she tilts her face up to face him. He lowers his lips over hers softly and suddenly I feel like I am intruding their private moment.

“I’ve got some work to do before I go to the airport later this afternoon,” he sighs, “I’ll see you soon, Red,” his voice is low, and my mother’s cheeks redden slightly. Turning my head quickly, I look out the window and focus on the soft rain that is hitting the panelled glass, the sound suddenly soothing.

“Bye Xavi,” her quiet voice pulls me back into the room.

“Amora,” my father’s tone is still curt, I know I’ve made him angry.

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