Evelyn
I woke up feeling weary and tired. My eyes were still swollen and red, a testament to the fact that I'd spent the whole night crying, despite my friends' company, which, in the end, I had refused and kicked them out. Jacob wasn't here... that thought alone was painful.
And even if I set it aside, just the mere consideration of how I was going to face Dad made my condition ten times worse. I had, without a doubt, hurt him deeply. He had done everything he could for me throughout his life—dedicated it to my well-being, and here I was, causing him such pain. Jacob had told me to handle it calmly and let Dad vent his anger on me if he wanted to—if that was the way to lighten up his mood, I'd not complain. But following Jacob's advice wasn't going to do it all—I had to shoulder some blame as well.
Fuck! I should have just told him about this long ago, before things had escalated to this point. But my fears got the better of me, and they had messed things up terribly. Fucked me up. Real bad.
It still hurt to remember how I had stood on the balcony and watched Jacob drive away in his car. And when he glanced back, knowing I was watching, and flashed the softest smile... At that moment, I wished I could have run away with him.
But I loved my dad. I didn't want to do anything that would hurt him. It didn't matter if I suffered for a while; if it meant sparing my dad from pain and betrayal, it was worth it. He didn't deserve a daughter who didn't care about him and his wishes.
He had sacrificed so much for me, and I could at least... sacrifice a few months for him. The fact that he would ever approve of this, however, gnawed at me from within.
I finally made my way down the stairs. It was yet another surprising day when I had woken up early. To be honest, I had barely slept at all. How could I? Second thoughts were already tormenting me.
What was I going to say to Dad? Argh!
It was true that I had initially chased after Jacob, losing my composure just at the sight of his handsome face. But there was another side to the truth, one I had kept hidden even from myself—I had been in love with him since I was twelve, perhaps even earlier. How could I tell? I couldn't. I hadn't realised it until I found myself drowning headfirst in the whirlwind of passion and desire, the storm of our sinful emotions and attractions.
I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, stifling a yawn.
I wasn't sure if I was going to face Dad today or not, but for now, I needed to sneak some snacks for myself and retreat back to my room. Tomorrow was the wedding, and I couldn't risk saying something that would ruin it all.
So, tiptoeing, I cautiously made my way to the kitchen, my eyes scanning for any prying gazes, although I doubted there were any. But just as I entered the kitchen, I saw it—my dad standing at the stove, making pancakes, and Clara sitting on the counter right beside him.
Fuck me and my luck!
My body froze, my eyes widened, and I almost thought of turning back. But then I noticed the smiles on their faces, both my dad's and Clara's.
Wait....This didn't match the situation. Not that I was complaining, but seriously, what was going on? What could brighten their mood to this extent? Jacob's departure couldn't be the reason, judging by how much he mattered to my dad, and Clara, knowing my distress, could never smile under such circumstances.
So, what the fuck was going on?!
Before I could decide to turn around and leave the situation for a while to process, my dad's gaze shifted to me, and that was it. I froze. I froze like an ice sculpture. Like A fucking snowman, well, snow-woman.
The smile on his face waned, but he casually said before going back to flipping the pancakes, "The chocolate syrup is on the shelf, go and get it. We've made your favourite pancakes."
This was far from normal. Not so regular if compared to the mess all of us were tangled into.
I needed someone to explain this to me.
My eyes shifted to Clara, unable to hide my bewilderment, but aside from a smile, she didn't offer me any clues. It was either me who had gone crazy or these two. It had to be one of those two reasons.
Maybe I had gone crazy and all of it was my imagination.
For a brief moment, I looked for an explanation or a hint from Clara, but she, too, appeared strangely normal, just like my dad. The abnormality lay in their overly normal behaviour despite the huge mess Jacob and I had created.
What was happening? Please someone tell me.
"What? Aren't you hungry?" My Dad arched an eyebrow. There was definitely something wrong with him!
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