Bittersweet

Bittersweet: Chapter Thirty

THIS BOOK IS CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN AND HEAVILY EDITED. NAMES, PLACES, AND SOME SCENES WILL BE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. SOME STUFF WILL BE TAKEN OUT AND SOME WILL BE ADDED.

THE INITIAL PLOT STAYS THE SAME.

So, if you begin reading as of 5/21/2021 and choose to read ahead further than I have updated-some things might be confusing or might not make sense. As of right now and will continue, slowly, adding the new chapters as I write them. CHAPTER THIRTY has been rewritten & updated.

**IF A CHAPTER HAS BEEN REWRITTEN/EDITED THE ^^ABOVE^^ NOTE WILL BE AT THE BEGINNING OF THE CHAPTER.

Chapter Thirty

Eliza

Daddy's office is like a shrine to my dead mother and brother. It's such a warm and inviting room, abundant in dark and rich tones. For a moment, I will the shakiness of my fingers away and run them across the deep brown leather couch I'm sitting on, relishing in the softness of it. I'm anxious...You know, for obvious reasons but they weren't the only reasons I couldn't seem to calm my racing heart. I didn't particularly like his office. Every time I walk into this room...It's almost like I'm walking into another dimension.

One where they're still alive, and it makes my heart weep in sorrow.

Eric's football memorabilia, medals, and trophies are sprinkled throughout every nook and cranny in the room. His HSA Leatherman jacket lays casually draped over the back of daddy's leather chair as if he'd hung it there before he left that day and would be back for it. There is a football propped up on his desk that signified Eric's first fifty-five-yard touchdown pass his sophomore year of high school. If only he'd just had a little more time...He was going places.

Then Mama...My sweet, precious mama. Her photographs are scattered everywhere in pristine and shiny frames that look like they're wiped down as soon as a speckle of dust lands upon them. They look like he takes care of them...Like he cherishes them. There is a massive black and white portrait of her during a modeling stint she had in the early fifties before she met daddy that's hung perfectly over the fireplace behind his desk. It was a stint that she'd always called silly and far-fetched, which I didn't quite understand. Mama's beauty was timeless and all-consuming.

For a moment, I silently wished she was here. Even though I'd only had seven short years with her, I knew she'd understand in a way that I wasn't sure daddy could. The idea of her being here for this made me want to cry. No matter my situation, I truly believed that she would be happy for me. Before my tears could fall, my eyes dropped from the portrait, unintentionally landing on daddy whose gaze is intensely expectant. He sat on the opposite side of his mahogany desk, his fingers threaded in front of him.

Silently, I wonder how I'm going to tell him. Sure, there was no way he didn't already expect that Austin and I were involved somehow, especially not after I raced from the house as soon as I saw headlights pull in a little while ago and threw myself into his arms as if my life depended on it. Maybe I knew subconsciously that it was going to play out as it did. But...I couldn't find it in myself to care. As soon as I saw Austin step out of that truck, I was scared. His jaw was littered with bruises. His hands were covered in dried blood. His bottom lip split right down the middle. The sight was horrifying, so horrifying, that I couldn't stop myself from launching at him.

Daddy wanted me to own up to it. Perhaps it's why he sent Austin straight to his room to get cleaned up and ordered me to immediately meet him in here. He wanted me to confirm what he already knew deep down. But the thing is, I needed Austin by my side to do this. He made me feel strong like I could do anything which is why I'd pulled just about every trick out of the book to avoid the situation in front of me the past fifteen minutes.