Chapter 59: : Chapter 59

My parents don’t come home until late this Thursday evening. That leaves me to pace my room, worried out of my mind about how we’ll act towards each other.

This morning, they had both already left by the time I came out of my room. Therefore, I haven’t heard anything from them since the beating I took last night.

Not knowing what else to do since I’m too anxious to read, I text Elija.

Great, now I’m rambling over the phone. No idea how Eli puts up with me.

I laugh to myself.

There I go, doing the one thing my boyfriend told me specifically he hates. Lying. I consider telling him the truth but right as I was about to start typing, my parents come home.

‘Florence? We brought food, are you home?’ my dad yells. My heart involuntarily starts racing and my muscles tense. I need to answer. Answer, answer, answer! I think but my lips won’t shape the words and my legs won’t carry me out of my room.

There’s a knock on my door before my mother peaks her head through a crack in my door. ‘Come on, Honey. Let’s eat dinner,’ she says, a smile on her face.

Even though I’m confused, my body follows her command and I sit down at the table. No one speaks and it’s incredibly awkward.

That is, until my father chuckles. Out of surprise, my eyes snap to his. I didn’t mean to look at him, too scared I might see the hurt monster that beat me up last night. Instead, I see the same, put-together man that has been there all my life. The one I felt safe around.

‘I got a bit carried away last night. Don’t even remember Bob leaving. Honey, did I make sure he took a cab home? I can’t have a partner like him dying in a drunken accident after having had him over for dinner,’ he tells my mom.

‘I wouldn’t know, I went to bed early, remember?’ she tells him, digging into her food. Meanwhile, my stomach is in knots at the thought of last night.

‘Of course, of course. Well, you went to your room even earlier, right?’ he then asks me.

‘You don’t remember anything?’ I ask, surprised by how even my voice sounds.

‘God, I’m so embarrassed. Don’t make me say it again,’ my dad groans. It’s so human, so painfully normal.

‘I don’t know either,’ I lie smoothly, a painfully fake smile on my lips. No one comments on it. No one cares.

‘So Saturday we meet your boyfriend?’ my mom changes the suspect. A quick glance at my dad is enough to notice the firm set of his jaw and his tight grip on the fork in his hand. Why is he not happy about meeting Elija?

I guess I’ve heard before that fathers tend to be protective of their daughters so it makes sense. Oh well.

–

‘Hey, you look so good,’ I tell Elija outside my front door on Saturday evening. I get to the tips of my toes to press a quick kiss on his lips.

‘Why thank you. Figured I only get one chance at a first impression so I better make it count. You look great as always,’ he tells me. With a blush on my cheeks, I lead him into my home where my parents are waiting.

‘Hi, I’m Elija. It’s nice to finally meet you,’ my boyfriend says, holding out his hand for my father to shake. It’s my mother that takes it first though.

‘Pleasure is all ours,’ she says politely.

‘Finally? How long have you and my daughter been together without our knowing?’ my dad asks. I nearly recoil at that, never having seen my father being so rude before.

‘Dad,’ I mutter when I notice Elija pulling his hand back, looking a little lost. My dad’s eyes meet mine in a flash and I can see the unspoken fury behind them. I suppress a shiver and my mom swoops in, telling us we should take seats at the table.

My dad sits down at the head, as always. My mother heads to the kitchen and I get to my father’s left, pulling Elija down next to me. When my mother returns with the plates, a tense silence falls over us. Everyone digs into the food but I can’t, my anxiety too high.

Elija places a hand on my leg, just above the knee. It makes the cold in my bones recede until I meet my father’s eyes again. Seems my boyfriend’s gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

‘So, you still haven’t answered my question? How long have you two been together?’ my dad asks.

‘A week, maybe? We’ve been friends and classmates before,’ I answer smoothly, knowing it’s been longer. My dad grunts but doesn’t say anything. Elija squeezes my leg.

‘That’s wonderful. Florence tells us you’re talented, what do you do?’ my mother asks and the cutest blush creeps up my boy’s neck.

‘I make music. Play the guitar and make beats and remixes but I’m sure Florence exaggerated.’ He chuckles softly.

From there on, dinner goes more smoothly. That is until my dad brings out a bottle of wine. My whole body tenses, memories of what happened the last time he drank flooding my brain until it’s hard for me to breathe.

If Elija notices, he doesn’t show it. I guess he’s too busy being nervous to be attuned to my behavior for once.