“He… he went back to her... Despite everything I did for him,… he still chose that whore over me. He did!”
In that vast hospital room, it was the voice of an elderly woman that was resounding. In her late fifties, she looked somewhat fragile and pale as she laid there, machines connected to her veins. Another younger woman was in the room with her, sitting on the chair just right beside the bed.
Sighing, that woman who, despite being in her early thirties looked mid-twenty, reached her hands and took hold of the elder’s one, caressing it with her fingers to soothe her. Her shining violet eyes searched for her mother's brown ones,
“Mom,” she whispered, wishing that the other would lower her voice too, “calm down.”
But her mother was too angry for that, tried to sit down, to vehemently voice her point,
“The dog! The animal!” she yanked the hands of her child to have her come closer when she understood that she hadn't enough energy to stay sitting, “Eyria, punish them” she declared her eyes wide, heart beating fast, “Punish them for mother. You will, right? I know you will! I won’t stop you this time!”
Taking her hands out of her mother’s, a trace of impatience mixed with frustration flashed in Eyria’s eyes and she hastily closed them to not let it be shown, repressing another sigh. How many times had she heard those exact words already? How many times had she acted on them? Nevertheless, every single time she’s about to give that couple a finishing blow, this same woman would come to the man’s rescue time and again. Over the years, it became a tiring and meaningless thing. Eyria was really weary when thinking about it. Back then, when she exposed the frauds of his company, it was, in the end, her own mother who forged him an alibi and other proofs of his innocence. When she made sure that his products couldn’t sell, it was still this same mother who provided him with solutions. At the end of the day, what exactly did this woman want?
Although unsatisfied, now wasn’t the time to show it, lest she agitated her mother any further. Some few hours ago, the woman already had a heart attack. The doctors asked that she rested. Using some words to placate her, Eyria hastily went out before her mother found another reason to be anxious again.
Exiting the room, an old man who was previously sitting on the waiting chair stood upon seeing her. Edward Vargas. Disdain flashed in her eyes as they met his. Never could it be thought that years before, there was love and worship in them as he let her play on his lap.
“How is sh-”
“What do you want?” she opened coldly, cutting his question, “haven’t you done enough already?”
He paled at her words and retrieved the step he was preparing to take to come closer to her. There was distress in his eyes,
“That… I really didn’t mean for her to hear us this time… It really wasn’t all lies. You have to believe me... this time, it really-”
She sneered, her contempt for this man growing only a step lower than her anger. Angry at both of them: at the liar as well as the one who was always, inevitably, believing him! Just how many times already did this bastard promised to leave that other woman? How many times did he promise to love only one? Why was her mother believing it even now in her old years when he had been lying since day one?
“Can I see her?”
Her eyes turned cold,
“Must you always show that pathetic side of yours? See her for what? Still trying to curry feelings for her to get you out of troubles?”
The truth behind those words embarrassed him so much that he couldn’t help getting angry. Letting loose of his temper, he shouted,
“If you didn’t corner us like you did, would I lower myself to that level?”
She sneered and didn’t even lower herself to answer, walking away from him. He hastened his steps and tried to stop her by holding her hands. In reflex, she slapped that hand away and turned around to glare.
“Never dare touch me again. Filthy!”
Shock crossed his face. Whether it was due to the word she used or that almost palpable hatred she had towards him, he himself didn’t know. Anger returned then, how could she treat him like this? Standing upright, his back straight wanting to appear imposing, he coldly said,
“At any rate, I am still your father. I deserve respect!”
“My father?” She mocked, whipping around to face him, “you stopped being that the moment you choose that woman and her daughter over us." Taking a step toward him, one hand on her hip, a sneer on her lips, she reminded, "you’ve been nothing more than an insect to me for too many years.”
Something in her eyes made him staggered. He couldn’t associate this woman with the little girl who used to cling to him everywhere. His expression became forlorn. How could it be like this?
There was ridicule in Eyria’s eyes as she saw his frightened expression. How could her mother love this man even now? At the time, when she was still a child, she would hear them shout. Then, sometimes later, he brought home a woman and her daughter, claiming that she had to call that girl her sister. He liked to say that, back then, it had been a one-night stand, that he didn’t really cheat. He had been drunk and it didn’t mean anything; that, despite it, he was a man of responsibility and hearing he had another child, he couldn't let her out of his life. It was later proven that he entertained that affair with the supposedly one nightstand for years and he got shameless enough to bring in his mistress and her daughter in their house! Someone like that, she really wished he wasn't her father!
The old man, in the end, took hold of his emotions, though he appeared to have aged some more in these last minutes of talking with her.
“Can you stop targeting your sister?" He softly asked, "The one you’re angry with is me, right? Stop making her life so difficult.”
Eyria's eyes narrowed,
“She is not and will never be my sister.”
He pretended he didn't hear and continued,
“You already took the man she loved must you take away her dreams too?”
A smile appeared on her face at the reminder of this, seemingly happy with herself,
“How can that be? Am I that powerful? She wants to be an actress? If she had the ability, wouldn’t she have already been famous since the time she started?... And what a good father you are. So anxious for your daughter, can’t you spare a little thought for the boy you adopted?”
Fear gripped at the elder's heart, and anxious, his eyes wide, he inquired,
“What did you do to Callen?”
“Me?" she pretended to be shocked, her hand on her breast, "How could that be! It’s something he did himself. I believe by now he must have frauded enough. Congratulations, he is indeed following in your steps!”
His face became ugly as she kept on talking,
"I have enough evidence. He'll be in jail for a long time."
“You cornered him into it?” he roared, hands balled into fists. She eyed those and lifted one eyebrow, unimpressed,
“Into fraud? Did I really? When exactly did we have that conversation? Why can’t I remember?”
“You can’t be my child. You’re the devil’s work!”
“Why, thank you. Take that as interests for all those times you force my mother into suicide attempts!”
And with those words, she walked away leaving him seething in rage.
Wow, wow. *clap* *clap*
ReplyDeleteI’m kinda staring to hate the “father”
And the surprising thing is, (no offense to authors) this mc have common sense and is smart! (In my opinion)