“Wait,” he says to me as he covers the mouthpiece of his phone. “I will get more intel and update you later.”
Hanging up the phone, he sets it on his desk before standing to come around to me.
“Hello, darling.”
He wraps his arms around me, hugging me. I shut my eyes and soak up his rare show of affection.
“Hello, Dad.”
He pulls back, making his way to the table. “How are you feeling about this weekend? Excited for your debut?”
“I don’t understand why I have to go. I know I’m of age, but we live in a different world now. One where arranged marriages don’t happen. Can’t I choose when I want to marry?”
His eyes harden. “Was it a mistake letting you go to that school instead of getting you a tutor? Did they fill your head with silly fantasies?”
“Dad,” I implore.
He cuts me off. “You’re not some everyday person. You are part of a system that has its rules. You know you don’t have a choice. I don’t know why you keep bothering me with this.”
“Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me to be happy?” I whisper, batting back my emotions.
He moves closer to me now, his hand reaching, running gently over my hair before fists it tightly, pulling it painfully, making my eyes tear.
“How dare you question me? You will not disobey me. You know this has nothing to do with happiness or love. This is our world. Accept it,” he hisses.
“Daddy, you’re hurting me,” I say, reaching up and grabbing his wrist.
He only tightens his fist more. “You’re going to that dinner. I don’t care what you want. This is what you will do. This is why you were born. It’s your family duty,” he says harshly as he lets me go.
I stumble back a couple of steps, pushing my tears away.
As much as I love him, my father has a temper.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I murmur. “May I be excused?”
He waves me off, already focused back on his breakfast.
Leaving the room quickly, I make my way back to the kitchen. Miss Kelly takes one look at me before pulling me into her arms.
“What happened?”
I shake my head. “Nothing.”
She doesn’t push. She never does. Instead, she squeezes me once more before letting me go, putting my breakfast in front of me on the table.
Sitting, I eat in silence, my mind fixated on my dreary future.
I miss being a child. Back then, life was so easy. At least, it seemed that way. My father always smiled. He was happy when I was around. Mother actually got out of bed every morning, taking me out to the park and shopping. It feels like it was all a dream.
It wasn’t until I hit puberty that everything changed. Mother stopped coming out of her room until late afternoon until she stopped completely. Whenever I would ask Father about it, he would get mad, telling me my mother was sick. That she was kept away from me for my safety.
At first, I believed it, but then I would tiptoe around the house to peek in on her.
The bottle of booze and pills next to the bed told me he was right. She was sick, but it wasn’t contagious.
She was an alcoholic who was also addicted to prescription drugs. She chose addiction over her family.
