AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He started to pace back and forth in front of the breakfast bar. “I wanted to be the perfect father. I did. But then the pressure at work became too much and your mother and I weren’t getting along…and I couldn’t keep it together.” He stopped and looked at her with sad eyes. “Not even for my most precious daughter.”
His shoulders sagged in defeat beneath the trench coat. “My condition isn’t physical, Olivia. It’s mental. One doctor thought I was schizophrenic, and another diagnosed me as bipolar. But none were exactly sure what caused my mental breakdown. After years of trying to figure it out, I think it boils down to one thing: Your father can’t handle pressure of any kind without going nuts.”
It wasn’t what she had been expecting. Not what she had been expecting at all. And all she could do was sit there while he continued to pace and fiddle with his buttonholes.
“Even now I can’t stand being surrounded by walls. They seem like they’re closing in on me.” He got a desperate look in his eyes. “Like they’re squeezing me from all sides.”
Since it looked like he was about to have another mental breakdown, Olivia got up and hurried to the balcony door. As soon as she had it open, he pushed past her and stood at the railing, panting like he couldn’t breathe. Not knowing what to do, she rubbed his back the way he used to do when she was a little girl and upset.
“It’s okay,” she said in a soothing voice. “There are no walls. Just open sky and fresh air.” She pointed at the sky to distract him from his panic attack. “Look. Cassiopeia.”
He looked up, and his breathing slowly returned to normal. “Do you remember the story?”
Olivia knew it and all the stories he’d told her by heart. “Cassiopeia was a vain queen who bragged to the sea spirits that she and her daughter were much more beautiful than they were. They reported back to Poseidon, who sent a sea monster to destroy their city. The king, Cassiopeia’s husband, decided that the only way to stop it was to sacrifice his daughter to the monster.”
Her father turned to her. “I couldn’t sacrifice you or your mother to the monster that lives inside me. So I left. But I love you, Livy. You have to believe that.”
Olivia looked away. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Dad. Every man I’ve ever trusted with my love has abused it. And I don’t understand any of it. Because if you love someone, you don’t leave them without an explanation. Lie to them. Hurt them. That’s not love.”
There was a long stretch of silence before her father finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Livy. But you’re wrong. I do love you.” He fiddled with his buttonholes. “I guess love isn’t always perfect.”
Not knowing how to reply, she just stood there next to him and tried not to cry. It was a losing battle. Soon tears streamed down her cheeks. Her father shifted toward her and placed a tentative hand on her back. It wasn’t a hug, but it felt nice. Maybe he was right. Maybe love wasn’t perfect. Or maybe what wasn’t perfect was people. Maybe Olivia was like Cassiopeia’s daughter, a princess who felt as if she’d been sacrificed to the sea monster of life and was waiting for a savior.
The squeal of tires on asphalt had her eyes opening. She might’ve looked down to see who was driving so recklessly if a bright beam of light hadn’t blinded her.
“They’re up here!” Mr. Huckabee yelled. “The bum’s trying to make a move on her, but I’ve got him in my sights.”
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. She turned to see who it was, but before she could blink the spots from her eyes, someone stepped out on the balcony and attacked her father.
“If you’ve hurt her, you sonofabitch, I’ll kill you.”
Olivia’s vision cleared enough to see Deacon holding her father by the throat while Mr. Huckabee held his flashlight on them and yelled.
“Keep a tight grip, son. The police are on their way.”
Olivia grabbed Deacon’s arm. “Let him go!”
Deacon squinted in the bright light before he called over to Mr. Huckabee, “Could you please turn that off?” The light clicked off, and Deacon turned to Olivia. “What’s going on? Mr. Huckabee called me and said that the street bum had broken into your house and was accosting you on your balcony.”
“He wasn’t accosting me. I invited him here.”
Deacon pointed a finger at her father. “So he didn’t break in?”
“No.”
“And you’re not hurt?”
“No.”
“Then what are these?” He reached out and touched her wet cheek with the pad of his finger. It amazed her how much heat the simple touch generated. And how much she wanted to fall into his arms and continue to cry.
Instead she took a quivery breath. “I’ve had an emotional day.”
He studied her for a mere second before he spoke. “Haven’t we all.” Then he tossed the keys to the Porsche on the coffee table and left.
Before she could sort out all the thoughts and emotions that raced through her, Mr. Huckabee turned the flashlight on them. “I guess I’ll call the police and tell them it was a false alarm. But, Britney, I sure wish you’d mentioned having an affair with the street bum at dinner. It would’ve saved everyone a lot of grief.”
