Domenica (+18)

chapter eleven | new

AN: TW, Self-harm

Domenica.

Growing up in affluence, my father's strong embrace offered a sense of warmth reminiscent of a mother's love. Meanwhile, my mother's words carried the weight of paternal wisdom. I was always close with my father, but I've loved my mother as much as I loved my father despite our logical differences. I may have grown up in money. Though, both had earned their wealth through hard work and sacrifice, rising from modest backgrounds to prosperity. Despite their shared success, their pasts diverged. While my father's youth mirrored a straightforward journey from modest beginnings to financial stability, my mother's earlier years were marked by a more carefree and adventurous lifestyle. Nevertheless, both had faced their own challenges and triumphs, contributing to the wealth that surrounded me. The story of our family's success was written in the language of determination, dedication, and resilience.

My parents would've done anything in their power to provide me with a good life and a great education. But no amount of good education in the world, and money in their bank account would've steered me away from being the hopeless romantic that I am. My father was the witness of my every heartbreak, my tremble lips, my painful tears. As for my mother, she was in the dark about it, though it won't ever stop a loving mother from hearing their beloved cry in pain, she could only envision the way her beloved would clutch her arms against her chest behind the closed door of her bedroom. She wanted to say something, but she knew she would only make things worse, so she would find out from her beloved husband.

Reminiscing my teenage years didn't send chills down my spine like any other people. Some refuse to roll back the scenes in their head several years later when they became Adults. As for me, I prefer to perceive it as my baggage. Where I could learn from my mistakes and won't fall in the same hole over and over again. So, I decided to give this boy a go; this boy who came from nothing but his father's name. He was so adamant in convincing me that he would be the one to walk me down the aisle, he would be the one to love the woman in me—regardless of our different world. He was a carpenter son, and I was a wealthy businessman's daughter.

They say opposites attract, and it's true; I've fallen in love with my husband not because of what he has, but what he is as a person. He was the person who gave me comfort in the midst of my rain, he was the person who can convince me to see the world in a different perspective. He fought for me.

But now I don't know what to think; either he fought for me or his ego fought for me.

Opposites attract is a fairytale that only applies when you're in high school, not when you're in your twenty-five's. Two different worlds collide is a suicide. Especially if the woman in the relationship holds the bigger fish than the guy.

"Never settle for less." Were the words my father used to say, during my teenage days. But I've failed him. I couldn't help but wonder how would my parents perceive this? Should I end this marriage? No parents in the world, ever, wants to see their only daughter, thrives alone. Every parent expects that one knight of shining armor, ready to swoop her off of her feet, and vowed to love her as every breath as he could take—for the rest of their lives. My parents became the witness of my smile while I was gripping onto my something blue. I'm sure they had their doubts, but then again, their time was too small to wary such a big thing. I wish they didn't though. I wish they've voiced out their thoughts, I wished they sensed something other than my naïve self. I wished my father asked me to sit down so I could search for the fiftieth times validation.

And I thought, I've been selective enough in choosing a partner for the rest of my life.

How could they trust the man who's been in my life for four years to take their daughter's hand away only to have him betray his vows?