25. Chapter 25

25

Hope

It's late in the night when I step inside my house, only to halt when I see Dad pausing in the hallway on his way from the kitchen. He pins me with a hard stare as he takes me in from head to toe.

An unwelcoming chill hits me and freezes every organ in my body.

"What are you wearing?" he asks, looking deep into my eyes.

"Clothes." I don't think he'll like my smart remark when I'm coming home late. It's past ten p.m.

"What'd you say?" Striding toward me in a few steps he gets in my face.

"N-nothing," I stammer with my heart in my throat.

"You're dressed like a fucking hooker." His breath stinks of Whiskey.

I'm not dressed like a hooker. I'm wearing an outfit I saw online and found cute. It's September, the official season of Autumn. I used the things I already had to make up today's look. I did it for myself and not for anyone.

"Are you fucking—" he bangs his hand on the door, a few centimeters away from my head. I jostle in shock. "—lying to me, girl?" he slurs and gets closer to me.

I lean back but the door doesn't allow me.

For that reason, I come face to face with Dad who looks at me like he hates me.

How did we get here?

Where did this hatred come from?

Why does he hate me?

"Look at this damn skirt. Are you whoring around?"

"No!" I blanch in disgust.

"Then why are you coming home so fucking late?"

"I was with a friend. She needed my help with her studies." I feel terrible for bringing Marie into this when it was Heath I was spending the time with. We watched Lucifer and ate dinner. I can't believe he has a personal cook who makes such good food for him.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." Red eyes stare at me with rage and hatred, and all my confidence and bravery crumble to the floor in a heap of sand.

"Let's set a few ground rules, shall we?" Hauling me by my throat he takes me to the kitchen and brings over the whiskey bottle.

I close my eyes at the pungent smell of it. I hate it. I hate it so much.

"First, from now on you're going to come home at eight. If you're a second late, I'll punish you."

My eyes widen in shock. I try to get away from him, but he tightens his hold on me.

"Did you hear me or not, kid?" He yells in my face and tears cloud my eyes.

Why today? Why did he have to traumatize me today out of all the days?

I nod and he loosens his grip for me to inhale.

"Second, I want you to keep your mouth shut about the times I've visited before. Are we clear?"

I quickly nod so I can get away from him.

"I mean it. Don't tell your mother anything."

I nod again.

"Third, I don't want to see you dress like this again."

After that, I zone out.

Focus on studies.

Stay at home.

Cook meals.

Clean the house.

The list goes on and on. I store every point, so I don't slip up and get punished. Dad doesn't elaborate on that but I'm sure it'll be worse than choking.

He lets me away, after making me get him another bottle from under the bed in their bedroom.

Stripping off my clothes, I take a hot shower and shed all the tears I was holding back earlier. I sob until I'm weak and light-headed. The happiness from earlier is drained out of me. By the time I lie down on my bed in my pajamas, I'm half-dead.

Everything inside my body hurts, and my stomach churns in painful cramps.

I'm spiraling so I do one thing that distracts me. Reading.

I get the set box of the Harry Potter books and take out the first one.

From there, time is a distant thought as I fly through pages and enter a world that's as magical as it could be.

I have to thank Heath. A hug and a few tears must've been an indication of how much it meant to me. Still, I want to do something big and meaningful like he did.

It's hard to give someone something when they have everything in the world.

I still can't believe he got me the Harry Potter series. He remembered.

No one has ever done something so nice for me.

I pick up my phone and pull up his number. I quickly take a picture of the book and send it to him.

Hope: My current read.

Hope: Thank you for buying me this series. It means so much to me.

A minute later dots appear.

Heath: You should stop thanking me.

I smile big.

Hope: Can't do.

Hope: ‘shrug' emoji

Heath: Then I'll make you.

I quickly sit up. What does he mean by that?

Hope: No. You can't.

Heath: Is that a challenge?

Hope: Yes.

Heath: Be prepared to surrender, because I don't fucking lose.

I giggle and roll over to my other side. My book is long forgotten.

Hope: You just have to bring the f-word in everything.

Heath: It's my fucking specialty.

Hope: I believe it's your favorite word.

Heath: Agree to disagree.

My fingers stop. I don't know what else to say. I see dots appearing and disappearing on his side.

Heath: What's your favorite word?

Hope: I don't think I have one.

Heath: For the record, fuck , isn't my favorite word.

Hope: So we both don't have a favorite word?

Heath: Seems like it.

Hope: Tell me when you find a favorite word.

Heath: You'll be the first to fucking know.

Hope: You didn't say it, but I'll also tell you first when I find my favorite word.

Heath: You fucking better.

I've never found reciprocation sweet, but in this moment, Heath Travon makes me realize that it's the sweetest thing ever.

Heath: Is the scar-boy in magic school yet?

I burst into a fit of laughter.

Hope: His name is Harry.

Hope: I haven't gotten that far.

Hope: I've only read two chapters.

Heath is quicker with replies.

Heath: Already fucking bored?

Hope: No. Not at all.

Hope. I've waited for this for years. I'm taking my time to enjoy it. I don't want it to be over in a matter of days.

Heath: It'll be fucking over when you want it to be.

He's not wrong. I want to stretch out my time reading this series for as long as I can. I want to remember this moment so that when I look back, I know I had an incredible time reading it.

Hope: You're right.

Hope: Don't you want some things to last a little longer because they're too perfect to be over soon?

It takes him two minutes to reply.

Heath: The sooner it's over the better it is.

Hope: I don't believe that. I like it when something that feels good lasts for a while. I don't want the magic to disappear.

Heath: At this rate, you might get a letter from the magic school.

Hope: It's called HOGWARTS!

Heath: Could you write it in capital letters? I couldn't fucking see that.

Hope: By the way, I'm five years late to get my letter.

Heath: I feel fucking sorry for you.

Hope: Me too. I could've been an awesome wizard but I'm a muggle.

Heath: What a grave fucking tragedy.

Hope: Indeed. Anyway…back to our previous topic.

Hope: Someday you'll want a moment to last forever.

Heath: I highly fucking doubt it.

Hope: We'll see.

Heath: Marie is rubbing off on you.

Hope: She is.

Heath: ‘grumpy' emoji

Hope: I'm off to finish reading the book that YOU got me.

Hope: Thank you once again.

Heath: Shut up.

I pick up my book but I'm too distracted to continue. I keep thinking of our chat and Heath. For as long as I can remember books have always managed to occupy my mind, but for the first time, all I can think about is a guy.

It's Saturday morning, and I dread it already. Usually, I spend the day at the library with the excuse of studying to avoid my parents, but Mom insists that I stay home today.

As I enter the kitchen I find my parents kissing with pancakes getting burned over the stove.

Ignoring their smooching noises, I turn off the stove and get rid of the burnt pancakes.

"Oh shit." Mom steps back with flushed cheeks.

"It's only pancakes. We'll make more." Dad assures her by rubbing her back.

He looks at me. "Hope, why don't you make them?" The harsh look in his brown eyes makes me agree.

"Okay."

Mom steps in. "Oh, you don't have to, honey. It's all right I'll make—"

"Let her do some work. You come with me." With a smile, he steers her toward the living room, and she lets him.

I watch the scene with sheer confusion. It's like I'm trapped in a dream that feels real. I'm perplexed by how easily Mom is letting Dad in. He's touching her, kissing her, and ordering me around, but she's too beguiled with his charms. It's almost like he's cast a spell on her when he isn't even a wizard… or maybe he is. No! He's definitely not.

While making the batter I catch glimpses of them. Mom looks happy. And Dad, he looks at her a certain way. I can't pinpoint what it is, but there's something that doesn't feel right.

He walks in through the doors and Mom just takes him. How is it possible?

What did he even say to her? Did he apologize for the way he's treated her for years—and how he almost killed her that night? Has he told her how he's drinking and abusing me? He's leaving marks on my body and he's an entirely different person. I don't recognize him anymore. There's nothing familiar about him, so what does Mom see in him?

Now his eyes are laced with layers of drunkenness, slightly yellow teeth, and his physique is lean. He's lost weight and it's so obvious he's sick. I don't hear Mom complaining or noticing.

All the times he's been drunk, Mom hasn't been home. It's always been me. He must spend the night like that and get sober by the time she comes home. With touches and kisses, he hypnotizes her in whatever webs he's been weaving.

I feel sick and confused.

I don't know what is real or not.

After I serve them breakfast, I return to my room with the excuse that I have a test on Monday when all I want is to leave the house.

It's sometime in the afternoon when Mom comes up to my room with a stern face. "We need to talk."

I quickly close my biology textbook. "What is it?"

She sits on my bed and stares at me with worry. "What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Between your dad and you."

I look away. "Nothing."

She sighs. "I see you tiptoeing around your father. You avoid talking to him and you barely stay in the same room as him for more than five minutes. What's the matter? Aren't you happy he's back?"

I lift my head with a frown.

Happy? Why would I be happy that he's back?

Has she really forgotten the years of abuse he put her through? And all the other stuff?

"I'm not," I say.

Mom frowns in disbelief. "Why not?"

"Have you seen him? He's been drinking."

She shakes her head. "No. Alex won't do that to me. He's promised me that he quit."

"No, Mom, he hasn't. Every night when I come home he's drunk and yells at me. He's even hurt me physically." I'm about to show her marks but she stares at me as if I'm crazy.

"Hurt you? Yell at you? What are you talking about?" There's disgust and surprise on her face.

"I'm telling you the truth. You can even ask Nadina. She saw him drunk and breaking into the house a few weeks ago."

Mom sighs heavily. "I know about that. He told me. But he's also promised me that he won't go back to his ways. He wants to change. He wants to be good to me and make up to me. I think we should give him a chance. I love him."

Just like I suspected, she is hypnotized. She discards everything that I said. She won't care if I show her how he's been abusing me. Even last night.

I have to try. I have to show her that he's not different. "He's lying to you."

The worry in her eyes disappears, and anger appears. "I know him better than you, Hope."

I nod in sympathy, trying to not let my emotions get the best of me. "I'm sure you do, but you have to see that he's not okay. He's hurt me, Mom. I swear."

"He will never hurt you," she dismisses my words.

"How are you so sure? He's hurt you before."

She glares at me. "That was before. The time we spent apart has changed him."

"No, he's not. Last night he made up some stupid rules and he asked me to follow them. He told me how to dress and—"

Exasperation flashes across her face. "I know. Alex told me you were dressed like a hooker."

"No! I wasn't," I protest. She knows what kind of clothes I wear.

"From how he explained the outfit to me, I believe him." She shrugs carelessly like my words don't even matter.

"But you don't believe me?" My voice breaks.

Mom sighs and stares at me in sympathy. "I do, Hope. But your father and I know better."

Anger flares through me. "The father who left us four months ago right after he choked you."

Mom stands up and glares at me. "Watch your tongue, Hope! I won't tolerate disrespect next time. Your dad is back home and he's going to stay. You can either deal with the fact or move out."

What?

I can't breathe.

She… she kicked me out? Even after I told her he's hurting me.

She chose to not believe me.

I…

My throat grows thick. "M-move out? W-what are you talking about? I don't have—"

"That's what I thought. When you live under my house you live by my rules."

Emotions overwhelm me to the point they suffocate me, so I burst out. "I just told you how he's treating me, and you don't even believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you."

I look away from her. Tears sting my eyes, but I keep them at bay. It hurts that she tossed away my words as if they hold no credibility.

"I'm happy he's back for you, but don't expect me to make up with him. You either believe me or you don't. I've told you what he's been doing to himself and me, but if you don't want to believe it then I can't do anything."

"What you should be doing is studying."

I lift my head and look her straight in the eyes. "I am, and I'd like it if you leave me alone. I have plenty of tests next week."

Mom's displeased scowl doesn't hurt more than her not taking my word.

What's the point of telling this to someone when they don't believe you?