“You’re old enough to make your own decisions,” he said simply, “And you were the one marrying him; not me. All that mattered was that you liked him. How does my not liking him concern you marrying him?”
“You used to invite him over for dinner.”
“Because he was your boyfriend; I had to get to know him. Or would you have preferred if I didn’t make an attempt to know him?”
I was still confused, “Why didn’t you like him?” I asked finally, “And why didn’t you say anything?”
“He never gave back what you gave him,” I was about to ask what he meant when he continued, “He never attended your shows; he was always ‘busy’. And don’t forget the awful jewelry he gave you on your twenty-fifth birthday. You don’t even wear jewelry.”
“He was busy,” my voice was quiet. We both know he’s right, but a part of me felt like I had to defend him.
“Too busy to come to the birthday dinner that Olivia organized for you,” his tone was sarcastic, “I saw the pictures online. And while we’re talking about pictures, he never posted pictures of you.”
“He wanted to keep things private.”
“Have you checked his profile recently?” dad asked, and when I didn’t respond, he took out his phone and slid it over to me.
It was a picture of Joseph’s feed. The first picture there was of him and a pretty brunette girl. She had thick brows, freckles and a natural tan glow. It was a selfie and she was wearing a simple blue flannel shirt with a black blazer over it- I’m assuming it’s his.
While he was in his usual button up white shirt and I could bet he was wearing a matching pair of black slacks and loafers.
He probably used the same perfume he has used for the last five years and I am certain he had a laptop or his briefcase in front of him.
I blinked the image out of my head and turned my attention back to the picture.
He was sitting on a chair and she had her hands wrapped around his shoulder from behind as she pressed a kiss to his cheek bone. He was smiling, wider than I have ever seen him smile, and he captioned it with a red heart.
There were over ten thousand comments and over a hundred thousand likes. Everyone was talking about how pretty she was and how they were probably in a long and committed relationship because he had always kept his private life private.
I wanted to snort, I wanted to scream, I wanted to say that it was a lie, but I simply stared at the picture until I had practically memorized it.
I ignored the way my chest seemed to constrict and instead focused on breathing and keeping my voice steady.
“She’s pretty,” I said finally, “And they look good together.”
Dad just shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket, “I saw that the day after you told me what happened. I was going to unfollow him on social media.”
“You didn’t have to-”
“Of course I did,” he cut me off, “Back to what I was saying; he wasn’t good for you, and he didn’t deserve you.”
I just wanted the conversation to end so I didn’t respond. I just shrugged and went back to my food.
The table was quiet for a few minutes before dad spoke up again.
“You’re not in any rush Adira,” he said softly, “You have your whole life ahead of you, and you definitely weren’t made to settle. What happened was for the best.”
I wanted to tell him that he doesn’t know what happened. I wanted to tell him what seeing that picture did to me. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t want him to feel bad, and most importantly I didn’t want to admit that Joseph had hurt me, so I just smiled and nodded.
My eyes fell to my mom and she gave me a knowing look. The intensity of her gaze was too much for me so I looked down and focused on the food on my plate.
After eating, I helped my mom clear the table and do the dishes. As soon as I was done, I made up an excuse about how I had some work to do and left.
My dad knew I was lying, it was in his eyes and even in the way he hugged me as I said goodbye, but he didn’t say anything. One thing I have always loved about my father is that he knows when to push and when to leave me alone.
“I’ll try and visit when I can,” I assured him, “And even if I can’t, I’ll send a text.”
He gave me a dirty look that I knew held no malice, “You have been saying that for the past five years, yet you don’t come home unless I call or threaten you.”
