Date Me, Mr. Archer

thirty five | the sound of heartbreak

Kyst had completely shut off my communication with my father. I usually got upset and sad whenever my father texted which ruined my mood and Kyst had said he didn't like it, when I frowned or closed off. That was why, he made me block my dad's number, saying it'd do me good to keep to myself for a while.

But like I needed a closure with Miller, I also needed one with my dad. The only reason I didn't want to meet him was because my father was a manipulative bastard who got his way no matter what. If he had his eyes set on something, he'd achieve it, come Gods or Satan. He simply didn't care how many people he hurt in order to reach the top.

I'd defended my dad when I was younger because fathers were supposed to be every girl's superhero. Fathers were supposed to love and cherish their girls, teach them how to ride the bike and save them from their mom's scoldings. Fathers were supposed to be the epitome of what a girl should dream of or look for in her partner.

But I learnt very early on that my father was the most selfish person ever. I had stopped defending him the day I'd gone home crying after being bullied by Bernard's friends and instead of comforting me, he'd slapped me so hard, I had jerked back, my heart in my throat. He had blamed me for being a fool in love.

That was the reason why love had always been a taboo topic for me. It made me a fucking fool. But with Kyst, it felt different from the start. Sure I hadn't liked the way he had talked about me or insinuated I'd only been given the job because of my dad having pulled strings but gradually, I'd realised he didn't actually seem partial towards me. He wasn't an asshole (not most of the time at least) and he was a good boss who cared about his employees and respected their choices. Unlike my Dad.

Now? Though I was a little afraid with the intensity of the amount of love I had for Kyst and yes, it did overwhelm me, I wasn't a sick coward anymore who would let her father, who never once cared about her, run all over her. Today, I would be brave, I'd go in, talk to him and break everything off with him. Then I'd go back to Kyst and confess my love for him. Yes. This was it.

With my chin high, I knocked on the wooden door twice.

Maybe I should've texted Kyst that I was meeting my dad. I eradicated that thought as soon as it came because had I told him, he would've convinced me that my dad would do more bad to me than good and I would've taken the chicken's way out. Again. A sense of trepidation swirled around me, igniting the skin on my face and hands and legs. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe I should just—

The soft striking of steel against wood reverberated around me as the latch to the door slid backwards and the door opened. My heartbeat skyrocketed. I would be seeing my dad for the first time in months and my skin warmed at the realisation.

I slowly slid my gaze up his plaid trousers and his button up that fit him across his chest perfectly. My father, in no way, was unfit. As far as I remembered, he went to the gym regularly and it showed in the way his biceps filled out his shirt. My eyes locked onto his, mine the exact replica of his, deep brown with a swirl of midnight black. I sucked in a sharp breath at the hard contours of his face, frown lines on his forehead that exhibited his hardwork after the bankruptcy but still failed to hide his dark beauty.

My father had been an extremely handsome man back in his age and I'd seen the pictures that showcased the reason my mother even fell in love with him, especially after he forced her hand into it just for a piece of land he had needed to promote his business, the one that had belonged to my grandfather, the one he had received as a wedding gift after marrying my mother.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, of course not expecting me to show up unannounced as he appraised me with indifference. “Vienna.” I hated the way he said my name, as if I owed him, as if I should be grateful he even birthed me.