Chapter 1
Beverly Hills - California
Ariel's pov
"ARIEL! WAKE UP, YOU BITCH!" - I heard my father's screams, followed by the loud bangs on the wood of the door. "I WANT MY COFFEE IN LESS TWENTY MINUTES!"
I thought that those events came from an insistent nightmare, from my subconscious. But, having just woken up, I was startled, not because of the scandal, but because I still hadn't gotten used to my father's mood swings. The last blow was a kick that sent me jumping out of bed. Heavens! Poor door!
My father was named Roberto Smith, an unsuccessful businessman who bankrupted his own company when he became addicted to gambling, drinking and drugs. Unfortunately or fortunately, it had been six years since it was just the two of us in the house. It's almost unbelievable to think that before, long before he became an unbearable person, everything was different, because my mother was still alive. We were a traditional family, just like the families in the margarine commercials: united and happy. My father was madly in love with my mother who, for him, was the ultimate reference of love and light in his life. He treated her like a flower, full of love and affection, and even with me, he wasn't much different. But when we found out that she had stage four cancer, with no possibility of treatment or surgery, my father was transformed, unable to accept that he was going to lose her.
When we received the news of his death, we went into a deep mourning from which my father never left, transforming himself into another person, a true scoundrel without scruples.
At first, I thought it was just one of the stages of grief and it would pass. I believed that together we would find the strength to overcome the death of the one we loved so much and that, above all, my father would continue to be present in my life and would take care of me. But, in less than a month, I realized that he was sinking and maybe there was no going back. He abused alcohol and cocaine, frequented the wrong places and, in two months, began to arrive home covered in blood and bruises. But, the real downfall started with his gambling problem. How did I know? There were times when strange men came to the house after him, warning me that if he didn't pay his debts he would die. At this point, I even hoped that he would realize the extent of the harm he was doing, not only to himself, but also to me! Of course, I was wrong and that dark time lasted six years, until then.
During that time, I witnessed the company's bankruptcy and the accumulation of debts and, at the age of 16, I was forced to look for a job, because, according to her severe words: "Do you need money? Well... work!". Unable to work full-time, I sought out part-time opportunities, splitting my life between studying and making a living.
I went through bad times, I had sleepless nights, tormented by fear and hunger and, several times, I thought about giving up on my dreams. But, I didn't give up. Giving up was not an option. I even worked two jobs, working very hard and, most nights, going to bed with only four hours left before the first class started. Surviving stress, fatigue and hunger, I managed to complete high school. My grades allowed me to go to college, and motivated and helped by Giovana and Noah, my best friends, I put my whole life on track, even managing to buy a car. At the age of 24, he was doing a residency at the Teaching Hospital in Los Angeles.
The clock read 4 o'clock in the morning. Staring at the hands caused me feelings of despair and distress, even more so for having woken up in such an exciting way. Still processing why the hell I had to get out of bed, I crept into the bathroom. Begrudgingly, I climbed into a hot bath. I expelled laziness, making it clear to my mind that I would go to work, and that it wasn't just anyone, but what I always wanted and was proud to say it was mine! My mother, before she died, knew exactly what I wanted, so she encouraged me to always fight for my goals. I didn't let my father, the one who was supposed to support me above all else, destroy my dreams. And look, there was no lack of opportunity for this.
Upon returning to the room, after a glorious five minutes of showering, still wrapped in a towel, I arranged my belongings and, proudly, separated the white coat. Although it had been six months since the beginning of the residency, I still didn't believe that I was fulfilling that wish. I knew Mom would be very happy and content seeing my progress.
Ready for work, I left the room, went downstairs and left my bag on the sofa in the living room. But, there was still one task left, I went to the kitchen to prepare my father's breakfast.
When Roberto went bankrupt the company, I imagined that, to maintain the house, or even support his new 'hobbies', he would look for work, but he simply accepted defeat and I was the one who supported the house ever since.
As I adjusted to the new life of work and studies, some things in the house deteriorated and it took some time for me to re-establish a decent home.
I took out the coffee and pancakes and left them on the table. For myself, I made some toast and spread some hazelnut cream. Calmly, I made sure that the house and car keys were in my bag and I was about to leave when I heard the old man's voice:
"And my coffee, where is it?"
"On the table," I replied, not meeting his eyes.
"And the pancakes?"
"Along with the coffee."
"But what about the syrup? You don't expect me to eat pancakes without syrup, do you?"
I took a deep breath, so I wouldn't explode at this time of the morning, and held back my words. I turned around, to answer him looking into his eyes.
"The syrup is over and I still haven't received my salary."
"What's the use of making pancakes if there's no syrup?" It was better not to have done.
"If you helped with household expenses, maybe things wouldn't be lacking!"
“I'm old for this, and nothing you're doing compares to what I did for you as a child.
"Do I believe I've done more for you than the other way around, or have you forgotten who saved you from the overdose?"
"You're feeling flattered about being a doctor, aren't you?" He asked me, with disdain, looking me up and down — are you going to work yet?
Ignoring his mockery, I momentarily returned my attention to my purse and took out my car keys, then turned back to face him. With messy hair and the posture of a defeated man, he remained in front of the table.
"My little job pays our bills and he helped me buy this" — I said, holding out the car key "Besides, I save lives and, as much as I love taking care of people, I get paid for it. I prefer this little job to drinking day after day, taking drugs, mixing with people of dubious nature and ending the rest of my days like that!"
Ignoring his death glare, he leaves the house.
“You should be starting your own business and not just being some doctor."
"You, giving me great advice?" You were once an entrepreneur and bankrupted your own company with your addictions and gambling. You have no morals and no right to comment on my career choices. I'm still something, how about you? What is it?
"Your bitch..."
"Good morning! I said, slamming the door before he continued with his insults."
Something that wasn't and never will be is bitch. I'm not even a party girl or date multiple men to be called that. And even if she had that custom, as far as I know, a bitch is the one who does nothing. These insults were frequent and, as much as I wanted to get out of that house and cut out of this fateful routine, I couldn't. In addition to not having the opportunity or time to find a place for myself, I was afraid of leaving him alone and ending up receiving the news that he had died. Which shouldn't have been a concern for me since he treated me like I was nothing.
At least, I had money to hang out with Giovana and Noah sometimes, although the last few times I went, I was the only one sober and I couldn't 'enjoy' myself, finding the place noisy.
I got in the car and entered my destination into the GPS, which, calculating the route and the traffic, set the arrival time for seven thirty. Despite everything, I always left the house on time. Still shaken by the argument, I followed my destiny.
The loss of my mother was strong for Roberto, he loved her very much, but that did not justify the mistreatment and contempt he had for me. Six years after her death, we were still in this situation and I should have gotten used to it, but I believed I would never get used to it. I don't think anyone gets used to the contempt of those who should be their foundation. Even more so at that time... Damn PMS!
I took advantage of the closed traffic light to distract my mind by phoning Giovana. I slid my fingers over the cell phone in the cradle and dialed his number. The light turned green and I started to accelerate. I was finally served.
"Hm!? I heard him mumble sleepily."
"Good morning, morning sun! I hummed happily, pretending the argument with my dad never happened."
“Ariel, how can you be so cheerful at six in the morning? By God, Valente, I want to sleep!
Smile. This nickname was given to me by her and Noah, who thought I looked like a Disney princess. Although we have completely different stories, we shared the beautiful red hair, with curled and very unruly locks.
- You do not work today? I asked.
" I worked overtime, so my boss gave me time off. I preferred to wake up only after eleven, but someone, whose name I won't say, decided to pull me out of my erotic dreams!"
"I rolled my eyes and smiled"
"by God, Valente! That piece of bad walking was going to show me what was under his underpants! Couldn't you have called me later? I don't know... about three hours until I finished what was I going to do?"
“You need a man…” I said, as I focused on the road.
For a brief moment, I thought about telling you about the argument you had.