The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 27 - Little Lies

Hey. Just so you know, I'm home tonight but will be going with George in the morning. What are your plans?

When I'm emptying the bins, I get a reply.

I'm working tonight. Glad you're home.

I ponder over a reply for a couple of minutes before realising there is nothing to say. I'm not sure whether or not he's telling the truth but I shouldn't have to internally debate that. I should have faith in him and trust what he's saying, especially when it's something as little as whether or not he's in work. Who would lie about that?

A few hours later, I've cleaned the whole house (not that it needed much) and got a bag packed for the morning. Instead of sitting in my room, I decide on watching a film in the living room. It doesn't feel so suffocating and isolating there.

I'm almost falling asleep, my eyes drooping, when I hear the locks going on the front door. Instantly, I stand up and stare. Stare. When I see my father shuffle in, I can't tell if I'm relieved or terrified that it's not a stranger in his place. For a couple of seconds, he doesn't see or hear me. He takes his shoes off, something he always does at the front door, and runs his hands over his face. Now that I see him, I know he was lying. If the look on his face didn't confirm it, the smell coming from him does. I get a huge sense of deja vu when I watch him hobble to the stairs.

Only this time, he turns. When we lock eyes, he looks through me at first. Like I'm not there. I wait, not smiling or even acting like I can see him, until I see his eyes widen a fraction.

"Uh," he croaks out. He sounds like he's been crying and I feel the anger simmer to a frustration, "Luna."

Now, I have options here. I can pretend that I'm happy with what's going on here, that I'm happy with his greeting when he hasn't seen me properly in over a week, or I can take the sarcastic route. He's drunk, definitely, but not so drunk that he won't understand what I'm saying. Not so drunk that he won't feel my disappointment.

"Nice to see you," I decide on.

I see him recoil when he takes in my words but, when he finally speaks, he pretends he doesn't hear the sarcasm, "It's nice to have... you home. I... I know I said I was working. I was. I was working and then I wasn't. I finished early."

I nod, pretending to take in his words. "You don't have to lie to me."

His mouth opens, "I'm not."

I picture George, I picture us laughing together with his friends, "It's more insulting than it is aggravating."

One of his hands reaches up to his head, like he wants to knock himself awake, "I don't mean to... insult you. I'm just..."

"You're just?"

He sighs, "Luna, I'm tired. Can we do this another time?"

My arms fold over my chest as I take in this image. My father, the person that has always been my best friend, is stood here in front of me for the first time in a week and he's had enough already. "You're lying again. You're not tired, you're drunk," the word stings the atmosphere, "and you're not happy I'm home. If you were, you'd want to have this conversation with me."

His arms are thrown into the air, "What's got you so angry? Is it that boy?"

Anger seeps into my skin at the mention of George. No, he didn't have the right to question him. Not at the moment. When he gets over this, then he can do the protective father thing. But not now. Truly, he needed to speak to George to get tips on how to be there for someone, really be there for them.

"No. I'm not angry, I'm sad. I'm tired. I'm worried. I'm frustrated. I'm pissed off. And they're mostly all directed at you."

His voice is quiet, sounds broken, when he next speaks, "What do you want from me?"

My chin threatens to shake but I clench my jaw, "I want my father and my friend back. I want to know that I've got my partner in life back. I want to come home to a lived-in house. I want you to spend time with my friend. I want you to realise that she didn't just walk out on you."

His head turns away from me, "I can't give you that right now."

I nod, "I know. That's what is disappointing."

Without another word, he takes off up the stairs. It's a quicker journey than the last time I witnessed it but it's still wobbly. I watch him, properly watch him, until I can no longer see his outline. Hopefully, he remembers some of this conversation when he wakes up. 

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Luna's dad is back. I am finding that he's a harder character to write about because I imagine such sadness that comes with him. While Luna's life is picking up, his seems to be going downhill. 

I also am conscious about how far I push their relationship. I want her to be respectful of his space but rightfully angry at his neglect. it's a difficult one. 

If all goes to plan, I should be back on track with the original plot after the next chapter. It's a LOT and quite emotional but I want to get that part done so I can work on Luna's development. 

I hope you're enjoying the story so far! Thank you for the reads, votes, and comments. :)