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His hands are stuffed in his pockets, his face red. Finally, he breaks the silence, his words dripping with bitterness. “So, you’re living the high life now, aren’t you? Thanks to that inheritance.”
I gulp. “How did you find out about that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Can we have a civil conversation?” he asks.
“With you? That’s unlikely,” I snap.
“Don’t speak to me that way. I’m your dad.”
“I don’t care who you are. This is my house. I choose who I will and will not talk to.” I struggle to find my voice, to defend myself against him.
His anger only intensifies. “I have paid child support since the divorce. You fucking owe me!”
“You should’ve signed your rights away if you didn’t want to agree to pay child support!” I yell.
“You’re right, I should have. I should have kept telling your whore of a mother that you weren’t mine. Because you’re not.”
“If I wasn’t yours, I wouldn’t look like a twin of my grandmother, or like your sister, or have your ears or temper. You always say this to piss my mom off! You were never there for me, Dad! You were never a real father. You were selfish and absent. You treat me like crap and call me every fucking name in the book. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Eric steps in front of me.
I can see the shock on my dad’s face. He didn’t expect me to have company.
“Get off the property,” Eric says calmly but sternly.
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do? This isn’t any of your business,” my dad yells in his face with spit flying out of his mouth.
Eric’s voice takes on an even colder edge. His eyes lock onto my father’s with unwavering determination. “I don’t care whose business it is. What I do care about is your daughter’s well-being. Now, I’m going to give you a choice: leave peacefully or I’ll make sure you do.”
My dad’s face contorts with anger, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. I can see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his pride and anger. With one swift move, he swings his fist into Eric’s face, knocking him back a little.
My eyes widen, and before I can react, Eric tackles him to the ground, pinning his hands behind his back.
“Call the police, now!” Eric yells to me while keeping my dad pinned.
My breath hitches while I run into the house and dial 911.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“Hello, my dad just punched my boyfriend in the face, and now they are fighting.”
“Ma’am, what’s the address of your emergency?”
Before I can say it, my phone dies.Shit.I quickly plug it in, then head straight to my neighbor’s across the street. Panic surges through me as I frantically knock on the door. Time feels like it’s crawling, and I hope someone will answer and offer assistance. My heart pounds in my chest, and my mind races.
Seconds turn into an eternity, but finally, the door opens. Sarah’s eyes widen as she takes in the chaotic scene unfolding in front of her.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“My dad and boyfriend are fighting,” I manage to blurt out, my voice trembling.
Sarah nods, and without hesitation, rushes back inside to call the police.
I return to my front yard to find Eric still holding my dad down, both of them breathing heavily from the struggle.
The sirens blare louder as two police cars pull up. Two officers get out and pull Eric off my dad.
“Fuck you and your slut of a girlfriend!” my dad screams while being handcuffed.
