He sets me down once we reach the top of the stairs and he holds the door open for me to walk inside.
It feels good to have someone looking out for me. I like it, I do.. I just don't know how to accept it. I've always done everything for myself. It's a weird adjustment but I'll get used to it. I think.
"So what we're you thinking for food?" He takes me to the kitchen.
"Anything is fine." I shrug.
"I asked a question, I expect an answer. As an Armani, you have to know what you want, no apologies. What do you want to eat?"
Alright. Answer with no apologies. I can figure out what I want. It's not that hard.
I sigh deeply and think. I hop onto a seat and lay my head in my hands. "Umm..," I hear papà chuckle lowly. "Uh..."
Papà pulls out a water from the fridge and slides it to me. I catch it.
Hm. A glass water bottle.
Sometimes I forget how rich papà really is.
"Chicken tacos." I finally decide.
"Ah, have you stopped in Mexico before?"
"No, just the half-rundown Mexican restaurant on the street corner."
Papà doesn't say anything else. I watch him get everything together. I think he forgot for a moment where I've been for the past few years.
I wonder how I'm going to tell papà. Here, in front of him, I understand that I can't keep everything from him forever. One day it will all come out. I'm scared papà will just never see me the same if it does.
The doorbell rings.
"I'll get it—"
"No." Papà is quick to say. He sets his utensils down.
"I know how to open a door, papà." I joke.
Someone sets off the doorbell again.
Something shifts through papà's eyes. "Why don't you start cutting this, sì? I'll be right back." He gives me a tight smile and walks off to the door.
I lick my dry lips as I watch him leave the kitchen. I guess I underestimated how protective papà will be now that I'm home. He's scared we're going to lose each other again, I am too. Though, I can't be contained, it's going to get annoying really fast if he won't let me do the simplest of things. For now, I'll wait to see if he backs off eventually.
My head whips around when I hear something smash to the floor.
I turn around, the knife in my hand and stop when my eyes meet hers.
Well shit.
"Don't worry, papà's just a little angry."
I don't say anything back. My hand squeezes on the knife. This is a bit awkward.
"I can see that." I reply.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Him
Teen FictionBook Two Valerius Armani would do anything for his daughter. He'd even sacrifice his own life for hers. But every sacrifice come with a price and Eleonora Armani had to pay for it. Ten years have passed since Eleonora Armani watched her father get...
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