Chapter 7
Ariel Smith
Disappointment consumed me like a gross, aggressive tumor. I know I shouldn't be so hurt, after all, when it came to my father and his actions, anything was to be expected. Still, I was crying while taking a quick shower. In my head, there was a summary of the years I lived in the house with him: the manipulations, humiliations and suffering I went through, all by choice. Finally, I realized how foolish I had been to think that the man who had hit me could change. For many years, I endured his insults, mockery and humiliation. I tried hard to overcome all these trials and believe in myself, in my strength and dodge their frustrating attempts to stop me from achieving my dreams.
That night, I gave up on my own father. Before getting into the shower, I called Giovana and informed her of my decision to go to his house. Evidently, the sudden decision left both her and Noah quite worried, mainly because they heard my swallowed cries, but I tried to disconnect the call and speed up my departure as much as possible.
I took the two large suitcases from the top of the wardrobe and tried to put my belongings in them. I would leave nothing behind, not even a souvenir photo. I worked since I was young so that he wouldn't go hungry, I did my best to make him aware of my efforts and value me as a daughter, but in gratitude, I was repaid with a slap. While I was finishing my shower I heard knocking on the door.
“Ariel, we need to talk. I didn't want to do that, but you mentioned your mother and... — Roberto didn't say anything else, he should have given up.
I came out of the shower, wrapped in my old bathrobe and with my hygiene kits, and skin and hair products in my hands. They went straight to the suitcases, which were finally packed. I put on the black pants and the cold jacket that I had left aside. It was late at night and, instead of being asleep, I was teary-eyed and finishing getting ready.
Ready, I made sure nothing was left behind. I didn't want to have to go back. I took my bag, which contained my documents, car keys and cell phone, and left the room, which no longer belonged to me. I went down the stairs with my tears under control and found it difficult to walk with my excess luggage. I saw my father sitting in the old armchair, in front of the fireplace and, hearing the noise coming from the stairs, he turned back and opened his eyes wide, seeing what I was leaving. I stopped next to the couch, taking the house keys from my keychain and throwing them on the cushions. He looked at me, as if he couldn't believe what he saw.
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What does that mean?
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It is not obvious? I'm leaving.
I didn't want to prolong the situation and, even less, listen to his sermons. It had been a while since it felt like we were father and daughter, this relationship no longer felt right. What we became were actually two acquaintances who didn't get along, but who lived under the same roof. I took the initiative to leave first.
— I said we needed to talk.
— We have nothing to talk about, it is clear that this coexistence will never work. Even though I tried with all my might to make it happen.
“If you decided to leave because of what I did, I apologize.
— Are you being fake at this point? Spare us this. The slap only showed me that it was time to leave this house.
— It was a misunderstanding — he insisted — I said we needed to talk.
— You can talk — I waited for words from him, but something told me that no matter what it was, it wouldn't be a good thing.
— I got involved in a situation and I need money. — He said, without the courage to face me.
—Are you asking for my help, after everything you did to me? — I asked, feeling incredulous — how many times have I saved you from similar problems? He almost died because he owed money to dangerous men!
— Aren't you going to help me? — He questioned, looking seriously. The worst thing is that I felt like helping him, but after everything, I would leave him at his own risk.
— Your actions no longer have anything to do with Mom’s death. I miss her so much, but I'm glad she's not here, she would be disappointed to see what you've become.
I said everything I wanted to say for years. I didn't care anymore. I wanted to hurt you, and with my refusal to pay your debts, I know you will hurt yourself, and this time, just this once, it won't be my problem. For the first time, I saw him with a regretful look and I felt good. Making him feel the bitter taste of disappointment and frustration on his skin was beautiful to see.
With a surge of anger, he stood up from his seat and pointed to the door.
“Get out of here! — He ordered.
- Goodbye!
“What are you waiting for?” Get out of this house now!
I held back the tears that formed in my eyes, so I wouldn't end up breaking down in front of him. I grabbed my bags and, with my head held high, I dragged myself out. There was a brief silence as he unlocked the door and I heard him ask, worried.
— Who will cook dinner? Who will clean the house?
- If you need or you want something, just work — I repeated the same words he once said to me.
I opened the trunk and packed my luggage, heading to the driver's seat. When I put on my seat belt, I wiped the tears that were running down my face and put my cell phone in the holder, adding a song to the car's Bluetooth. My mother and I liked listening to music together, it brought us peace. So, every time I could, I listened to our playlist. I listened to it over and over again.
There was no traffic and I was able to vent, crying and screaming in the car, as I drove to Los Angeles, but this time, without the intention of one day returning to Beverly Hills. I should have been asleep by now, but instead, I was in the car feeling a thousand emotions at the same time.
The next day, I would go to work with even deeper dark circles under my eyes, but I would have a lighter life ahead of me. I looked at the cell phone screen and saw several messages and missed calls from Noah and Gio, which was no surprise, they were worried. But I didn't want to talk to anyone, I wanted to drive without saying anything. That was my moment to unload everything I swallowed over the years.
I parked the car in the garage of their condominium, took my luggage from the trunk and got into the elevator. On the way to the apartment, I dried my face. I'm not sure what to say or even if I really want to bring it up, but we've been friends long enough to know how to understand and respect these moments.
My eyes were red and swollen from crying so much. I stopped in front of the apartment door, sighed, controlling my emerging nervousness, and rang the doorbell. Giovana opened the door almost instantly and her expression was filled with anguish.
—Ariel! I was so worried about you.
In the living room, I see Noah get up from the couch and face me. She made room for me to enter with my bags and then locked the door.
—What did that scoundrel do to you? — Noah asked, as he came towards me and hugged me tightly. My shoulders slumped and tears of sadness and pain started streaming down my face.
— I was such an idiot...
— Shh! This is over, it’s finally over!
— I did what no one would do for him all these years and in the end, I was repaid with a slap in the face — I said, in tears, squeezing Noah's hoodie.
— Did that animal have the courage to hit you? — Giovana asked, in disbelief.
I felt Noah's body arch and squeeze me.
— I want to go there and beat him up!
“It hurts so much, Noah,” I said, crying loudly.
— This is over, take a deep breath. Giovana, get water for Ariel, don't just stand there — he shouted at Giovana and that made me want to laugh, even at a moment like that.
— If it weren't for Ariel, I'd be hitting you right now, you big dick — she threatened him angrily, turning her back and walking towards the kitchen.