AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERONE
The coffee shopbustles with the morning rush. I glance at my phone, frowning when I don’t see any messages from my dad.
Sometimes, I go months without hearing from my dad, only for him to resurface and shower me with sweet text messages. It creates a glimmer of hope that he’ll stop being so mean and cruel with his words. But that feeling fades as he reverts to his old ways, which happens within a month or two of being nice to me. When that happens, I typically cry myself to sleep, berate myself for falling into the same trap once more, and immerse myself in my work to avoid dwelling on it.
Dad
You’re a bitch.
Cunt.
Go to hell.
Unlike with my phone, I’ll never be able to erase those messages from my head.
I wipe down the espresso machine, my mind wandering to the excruciating hurt that I have yet to get used to. At just twenty-four years old, I’ve had years of emotional torment caused by my father’s presence. The verbal abuse haunts me, lowering my sense of self-worth and leaving me wary of opening my heart to men. I stop speaking to him when he mistreats me. I can ignore him for months. But he always comes back.
Dad
I miss you.
Your daddy loves you.
I wish you would come down to the house some more. Maybe we can have a cookout.
Maybe I’m stupid, but hope continues to brew inside me that he may be changing. I always reply, saying I love and miss him back, and then and things are fine between us for a little while. He will message me a few times a week to check on me and see how I’m doing, But I’m still hesitant that he’s actually changed, and I guard my heart and keep my messages short until he proves that he is worth it. Then I let my guard down.
Eventually, he gets drunk again. He has no reason to be so awful to me—no matter how he’s feeling—but he still is.
I scrub the machine’s surface a little harder, trying to wash away the painful memories. Each insult, each cutting remark from my father, has left indelible scars. While the scars from my past may not be immediately apparent, they’ve etched within me a sense of caution that colors my perception of love. I long for the kind of love that feels like a warm embrace, but I always seem to approach it with careful steps. I hesitate to fully open up to new possibilities, afraid of the unexpected plot twists that love can bring.
A woman walks up to the counter and asks, “Ma’am, can I get a refill?”
“Sure thing.”
She thanks me as I pour coffee into her mug.
As I move to put the pot back onto the coffee maker, I see Scarlett—my best friend, boss, and the owner of the café—gesturing for me to come over.
She’s been my best friend since the first grade. She has witnessed the verbal abuse from my dad and the meltdowns I’ve had from his horrible words. But she grew up with an awesome dad and will never understand. But that’s okay. I wouldn’t wish this feeling on my worst enemy. I can rely on her, and she does her best to support me. I love her for it.
“Hailey, you’ve gotta stop getting in your head at work,” she whispers as I walk over to her.
“I’m sorry. My dad hasn’t contacted me at all.”
“Really? It’s been four months.”
“Yeah. Normally, it’s about two, but it’s longer this time, and I’m worried he may still be mad at me from the last argument we had.”
“Not that it matters, but what did you say to him?”
“I basically said he needs to grow the fuck up and leave me the hell alone until he does.” Scarlett widens her eyes, leans against the counter, and crosses her arms. “Hails, you don’t need him. Plus, you have Ray—he’s the only dad you need.”
I sigh and look up at the ceiling. My eyes burn with the welling tears, my lip quivering with the effort of trying to swallow them down. “He’s still my dad, though. Maybe I should just contact him and apologize.”
“No, you don’t owe him an apology. If he wasn’t abusive in the first place, you wouldn’t feel the need to apologize,” she responds.
“That’s true… but I still feel a pang of guilt for saying it.”
