He didn't have anything to say to my remark. He opened his mouth and closed it like a constipated goldfish and I was so ready to storm there and deck him in the face.

In my entire, 18 years of living, I have never felt so aggressive towards my dad and it scared me. He has always been so fun and perfect but he took away the full trust I had placed in his hands.

"Well, no. I mean, yes, it was perhaps a little like what it looks like but I can-"

"FUCKING SAVE IT." I roared at him.

I slowly curled my fingers into fists, and still, my so called father, made no move to get up from his position which only fuelled my anger. My breathing became heavy as my eyes glazed with darkness.

"I need some air. I'll be back in five minutes, and you better be ready to speak to me." I growled before turning on my heels and slamming the door behind me.

I wanted to burst into tears now that I had no audience but I just fuelled my grief into anger to make it more powerful. I felt out of control as I stood on the porch taking in huge gulps of air. My chest rose and fell with every breath and I clenched and unclenched my fingers.

I lifted my head up to stare at the full moon and starry night and instantly my breathing dulled and thoughts of my mother pooled in my head. How could my dad do this to her? 

And me?

It had only been one frigging month. 

But I knew that for my mother, I had to listen to what he has to say before I make my decision. I wasn't the only one to suffer a great loss.

Though, in the pit of my stomach, since I saw him and the Spanish probably Mexican bitch, (yeah I'm going to label her bitch until I have a reason not to), I felt like maybe this happened whilst mum was alive. Maybe she knew this was going on and didn't realize there was a drunk driver because of the grief. Maybe she didn't get a business phone call and she just wanted to get away.

I mean she clearly told her company that she was taking a day off so it didn't make any sense. And she's so organized that she ensured that she answered any possible phone call before she went or called them and asked them to call her in two days.

I am probably seriously over-thinking this. But losing your mum does that to you I guess...

I turned around opened the door. I heard some shuffling in the living room and my anger spiked up again. I did my best to keep it under control and walked into the room.

My dad, (thank God he's dressed), had his head in his hands as tears rolled down his face. However much I highly disliked him at this moment I couldn't help but feel like comforting him. But when I looked at the spot beside him, I found that Mexican bitch was stroking his back with genuine concern and worry glimmering in her eyes, (she was also thankfully dressed).

I realized with a start that in the past month, whilst I was drowning in my own pool of pity and grief, I had my friends with me every step of the way. But who did my dad have?

It seemed to me that this bit- lady, was taking care of him. But I needed to know the truth. If he wanted me to understand then his explanation had to be damn good. I wanted to not be a burden to him but I wasn't just angry that he moved on a month after mum's death. I was angry that I had to find him in this compromising position. That he didn't care enough to take this somewhere my innocent eyes didn't have to see.

"Explain." I demanded in a crisp voice.

He looked up with wide eyes and shrugged the woman's hand off and walked up to me to stand before me. His eyes were still filled with tears and he wore such a broken expression on his face. 

He told the Mexican... woman, (I've decide to upgrade her from bitch to woman), to leave and she did without a peep. She gave him a sorry and caring smile and offered me a small smile too but I just glared at her as she disappeared around the door.

I felt a big, comforting hand land on my shoulders but I shrugged it off and watched as hurt filled my dad's eyes.

"Listen Scarlette, I will never forgive myself for what you had to witness. Even if you find it within your good heart to forgive me, I will never forgive myself. Even though sorry is such a tame word in this situation, I don't know what else to say. I'm so sorry Scar, and I hope you'll accept my explanation..." a low sob broke out from his chest as I looked at him with teary eyes that blurred my vision. "But I'll... I'll understand if you don't."

He led me to a couch and I decided to co-operate. "I can never love another woman like i loved your mother and with her loss, I lost a part of myself. But she left me with you, the best thing I could ever ask for, and your so beautiful, just like your mother. But in the last month, I just... I couldn't cope with it. I was trying so hard to stay strong for you and this lady, Camilla Beck, recently lost her husband and our relationship was innocent, pure business partners but our vulnerability made us..."

"Yeah, yeah... I saw it, I get the picture, you don't have to explain what you two found in each other. It's clear that she found your sausage and you found her key hole." it was beyond embarrassing to be this up-front with my dad but my anger resulted in my word-vomit.

I looked at him and found that he was beet red, that's right, be embarrassed. "Yeah, something of the sorts." he replied. "It was never my intention to move on from your mother but Camilla has been nothing but supportive. I know that neither of us can love another like our... deceased spouses, but I needed her in the last month. As a good friend."

"With benefits." I muttered under my breath but he heard it loud and clear.

"I am sorry, I really am. If want me to stop seeing her, I will. No questions asked. You're my number one girl, but, Camilla needs me as much as I need her. There are some thing I don't want to burden you with and with you going to Harvard... I'll be alone Scar."

I sighed. I still wanted to scream at him and I also wanted to hug him and tell him I forgive him. I don't want him to be alone, that would be cruel, but I just didn't like the vibe I got from 'Camilla'. But I hadn't even given her a chance.

But it had only been one month for crying out loud! Most children had to deal with this a while after a parent's death, once they had settled into their life.

I haven't even BEGUN to move on in life.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, I need to just get my thoughts together." I said curtly.

Not giving him a chance to reply I got up and went up the spiral staircase to my massive room. 

This huge house has always had three people living in it and even though the space was more than enough, the whole house was always just bubbling with noise, whether it be music, chatter, fights or laughs.

But now with just one person missing, this house feeling like an abandoned mansion. 

Dead and lifeless.

Cold and sad.

I sighed as I slipped under my sheet.

"I wish you could be here so that this didn't happen mum." I whispered. 

And though there was so much swirling around in my head, fatigue was overpowering me, so as soon as my head hit the pillow. I closed my eyes.

With one last thought.

I was going to give my dad and the woman a chance and I was going to leave in three months. University starts in October and I had to get my shit together.


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