18: Favours For Fathers

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Sonia

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Sonia

I sprint out of the restaurant feeling as miserable as I've ever felt. The one thing that was supposed to be good turned out to be as horrible as everything else. It must be some sort of curse - me never being to escape the endless cruelties forced upon me. Perhaps it's the universe's idea of a sick joke.

Tears cloud my vision as I speed through the streets, shielding my face from the shameless glares of the passerby's. They all seem to stare - not worrying about my state, but more so about how ridiculous I must look. I don't even care that I've abandoned Joel, as the feeling is buried deep under the harsh words of what I know is truth.

I never should've thought that I would have a shot at happiness, everything was going to crash and burn anyway. Maybe I'd been done a favour to be spared of this inevitable heartbreak. Joel too would never have truly cared for me, I was simply a burden, not just to him but everyone else as well. He must be relieved for our date to have been interrupted, his words spoken to Gwendoline all false.

I could see him now, pulling her aside and thanking her graciously for saving him. She'd smile the sickening way she does, then waltz away with the pizazz only she could pull off. He'd look wistfully after her, wishing he'd been enjoying her company rather than mine.

I can not stand to face my parents who'd so proudly seen me off, their smiles radiating with genuine happiness. I travel down continuously narrowing streets until I arrive at a house that contains the only person I seek comfort from.

It pains me to see the burned architecture of her house, once a beautiful shade. I knock on the door and I shouldn't be surprised when Stephanie's father opens the door. However, I am shocked when his expression slips into one of real concern.

"Sonia," He addresses me. "My daughter is not her normal self."

I can't help but retort coldly, "Perhaps you weren't there to witness her 'normal self'." His face does not flinch, the way one's face would upon receiving an insult.

"I deserved that," He admits. "But I think you should come in. Stephanie has not left her room once, not even for dinner."

"I will come in, for her. Solely for Stephanie."

"Of course." He nods, and swings the door open to welcome me. My eyes widen as I take in the meal spread on the kitchen table behind him, one so elaborate that even my own mother would never attempt to cook something like it.

"I don't suppose this is your doing?" I ask.

"Actually, I..." He pauses, guilt shining through his naturally glazed eyes. "This might be one of our last meals together, and I wanted it to be some special to remember by. My trial is tomorrow and I fear I will be punished heavily for my crimes."

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