Sweet afternoons

Chapter twenty one

I had expected my parents to retain their judgements of my body but part of me, however small, had hoped that they would have been able to at least pretend they had changed. How could losing me completely not have taught them anything?

My mind began to fall into a grey pit of unhappy thoughts, spinning through the insults that had ingrained themselves in my memory. The feeling was overwhelming and I was almost ready to leave the room when my father spoke again, his words so utterly against everything I knew about him that my mind could not help but become empty.

"Andres. I'm afraid to say that my Lena is far too beautiful for the likes of you. Or anyone for that matter."

I gaped at my father, mimicking the face my mother seemed to be making. The elder man had a serious expression, his eyes burning into Andres. His fierceness only softened when Andres let out a short laugh.

"I agree, sir. Lena is far too beautiful for anyone. However, I am too enamoured by her to let her go now."

I saw my father nod out of the corner of my eye. "I think you and I will get along just fine."

Was this even the man I remembered? His harsh looks and dismissing personality seemed so far from what I was witnessing. Had I dreamt up a villain in my absence? No, surely those memories that still felt so fresh were real. He had never shown so much care in my 18 years with him. Never so much as a word of comfort had crossed his lips. So why now had he changed? Had I caused so much impact by leaving?

My eyes, which had been trained on my father, strayed to my mother for a second. I could tell instantly that she was not thinking the same as he was. In fact, I imagined that the two partners were very oppositional in their opinions. While my father seemed to think that Andres was barely acceptable as my lover, admitting he thought no man could be good enough, my mother likely saw things in reverse.

Andres was, in my opinion, and hers, more than I deserved. While I thought so more because of the type of people we were, she likely saw our appearances and realised how different we were. Different, in her book, often meant bad.

Standing tall and proud by my side, the man in question could feel the tension surrounding us. Having successfully charmed my father, the man turned his attention to the older lady by his side. "Mrs Young, it a pleasure to meet you as well."

If he felt at all uncomfortable with my mothers staring and open looks, he didn't show it. It was impressive, how he managed to stay composed in any situation. I knew he did it for me; keeping sturdy so that I could depend on him when if resolve was shaken.

"Yes...yes..." My mother spoke slow and soft, her voice distant. She quickly realised how she sounded and straightened her spine before speaking with more enthusiasm. "I mean, yes it's lovely to meet you too."

Moving her eyes from Andres, she focused once again on me. "Lena, I'm so grateful you came. I wasn't sure you would, even after I asked."

The way she spoke put me on edge. Her tone held positive regard but nothing with affection. It didn't seem like she was happy to see me at all. But if she hadn't wanted to see me, why had she asked me here?

"Dear, I didn't know you'd asked her to come." My father spoke abruptly. His eyes turned to his wife, wide and stern. There was a silent plea behind his features that I couldn't place and my mother became suddenly nervous.

"I know you didn't want to reach out to our daughter like this, but we really need her help."

"My help?" I asked with sharpness, ignoring the way my mother had said 'our daughter' as if talking about me like a piece of furniture. Her vindictive comments could wait, for now, I needed to know exactly why I had been called out to see them.