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He’s ended the contract.
Like he said, all deals are off, and in the folder, I will find the only copy of the evidence regarding that night. I reach for it and snap the disk in half, then again into smaller pieces. Somehow, that gives me some gratification, but it’s small and doesn’t last for long.
The contract has ended, but he’s also left the deeds to this house, which is now in my name. But I don’t want it.
Pushing away the paperwork like it’s burning me, I walk straight out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Picking up a bottle of vodka, I open it. His house, or should I say my house, is stocked full of booze.
Before I can drink the first sip, the doorbell rings. I know it’s not him, so I wonder if I should even open it. It rings again, then there’s constant banging on the door. Gripping the bottle in one hand I walk over, pulling it open. My father’s standing there, a look of worry and anger written all over his face. He goes to speak, and before I can hear a word that leaves his lying mouth, I shut the door in his face.
“Lottie,” he yells, and just as I go to walk away the front door opens.
Shit! Why didn’t I lock it?
Father steps into the doorway, so I can’t close it. “You shut the door in my face?” he asks, clearly angry.
“You deserve that and a whole lot more,” I spit back at him, taking another drink from my vodka bottle.
“This is what’s become of you?” He nods to the bottle in hand. “You drink now?”
“I always drank. But you’ve never stopped for one minute to take notice of me,” I say with an eye roll. “Oh, that’s right… I was never marrying the right man or looking the part you desperately wanted me to play.”
“Lottie…”
I hold my hand up and shake my head. “If you’re going to spew your lies at me, you better make them good. Otherwise, this vodka will end up all over you.”
“Where’s your husband?”
I laugh at him. “You mean my fake husband?” He looks at me, confusion plastered all over his face. “Carry on, you don’t have long, my patience has already gone.”
“You were never meant to find out.”
“No, I believe if I hadn’t found out you would have never told me, am I right?” I spit that last bit right back at him and take another big mouthful of vodka.
“Will you just put the damn vodka down so we can talk?”
I shake my head. “Carry on… with your lies.”
“So, you’re just going to take his word for it? Over your own father?”
I scoff at him. “You pretty much admitted it to me on the phone, Father. Who do you think I am?” I ask, shaking my head. “You need to leave. I have to pack up and move. And you being here isn’t helping or getting it done quicker.”
“Why are you moving?”
“Why did you have an affair?”
“Your mother left me. I met Katrina, and it was instant. I loved her. We even planned on keeping the baby. I was going to tell you, but it all happened so fast. The baby died. Katrina fell apart. And then your mother asked me to come back, so I did. It was good for my business to be seen as a family man.”
As he finishes talking, the door flings open, and Whiskey walks in with my purse in his hand. He pauses, and when he sees my father, both of them straighten their backs.
Another mental note: Lock the damn door.
“Gerald,” Whiskey says with anger seething from the single word.
“What’s going on with you and my daughter?”
Whiskey’s eyes flick to me.
I lift the bottle of vodka, nodding to him, then take another sip, “I will not be around you when I’m drunk, Whiskey, you may record me again.” It’s going to my head, and I’m well on my way to being drunk.
