My Ex's Hot Father

Boyfriend

Brielle’s POV

It was difficult to see through the windscreen as the rain poured heavily. It has reminded me of the times when I ran away from home in the rain, just to feel free. I didn’t like that energy at home, so the rain washed it all away. All those words that destroyed my confidence as a girl and as I grew up.

“F^ck,” Daylan muttered under his breath as we came to a stop. My memories forgotten in this moment.

“What is it?” I asked. I had to be back at the apartment where Rick, my boyfriend would be. He would be worried. He was probably bombarding me with calls and texts. I wouldn’t know because I left my phone on silent to write at the bar.

“Just some traffic. I want you to get home safe and warm. My place is just around this corner, if that will make things easier. The storm will just get worse.” he said. As much as I want to go with him to his house, I would rather be at my apartment with Rick.

“Please, just take me home,” I replied.

“Ver well.” he said.

I was still taking in his scent, it was torture. How could this stranger make me feel this way? The cars in front of us finally started to move slowly. It felt like hours. But eventually, we pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building.

“Thank you,” I looked over at him, he was already looking at me with hunger mixed with sadness that he didn’t want me to leave. I was pulled his way, but I fought hard, and I smiled before looking away, getting out of the car. He didn’t say anything else as I closed the door, getting soaked by rain again as I jogged down the path until I entered the building.

It felt like I lost something when I walked away. All I could think about was the moment in the bar as I stood in the elevator, ascending all the way to my floor.

Once I got into my apartment, I heard a commotion and footsteps. I walked further into the apartment, seeing Rick walking towards me as if on a mission. “Thank goodness, you’re home,” he said with so much relief as he took me into his arms and placed a chaste kiss against my lips before pulling away. He cupped the sides of my face, “You’re drenched. I was about to look for you because you weren't returning any of my calls.”

I jumped as thunder crashed. I hated it. That was one of my fears growing up. “I’m fine. I was at the bar writing.” I said, and moved away from him, placing my satchel on the recliner and began to take my jacket off. I needed a hot shower.

“Please, text me next time. I worry,” he said. The thing was, he wasn’t at home all the time, he was working for his mother and also for the hospital that I work at. It was no use when I would text him because he would either ignore me because he was too busy or he wouldn’t respond at all until he is back home. I felt alone and ignored, yet I didn’t want to push him about it.

“I’m perfectly fine. How was work?” I asked as I draped my jacket on the back of the recliner, and then I walked down the hallway.

“It was busy as usual,” he said as he followed after me.

“How is your mother doing? I know that she hasn't been doing well recently.” I entered our bedroom and I got undressed.

“She is a bit upset. My father is back, and he wants us to have dinner with him tomorrow evening. I… I don't know how to feel about that. I haven’t seen him since I was young when he moved to London. I know he broke my mother's heart and to see her be upset that he is back, shows me that she is not over it. It has been years, she hasn’t moved on with another man. I think part of that is because he ruined her for other men, but then again, she was somehow hoping that he would come back to her.” he said.

I was naked and wrapped a towel around me. “I hope that things work out the way that they should, but I’m always here when you need me,” I gave a sympathetic smile.

“Thanks,” he returned the smile before I went to the bathroom.

I turned on the faucet as the hot water came pouring down, creating a steam room as I let my towel drop to the floor and stepped into the shower, closing the glass door with a click. I stood under the spray of water, pouring all over my body. As I slathered the shower gel across my body, I took my wash cloth and washed my body, but as I closed my eyes, Daylan was in front of me.

It was like he was washing my body for me, that feeling was back, that magnetic pull all while he was in my head. What would it have been like if I had gone with him to his place?

Every sensation in my body was like him exploring every inch of my body. This is so wrong, but yet it feels right.

“I need to get to work, there is an emergency,” I jumped at the voice of Rick. I turned the faucet off and placed my wash cloth on the rack. Opening the shower door, I stepped out as Rick adjusted his black jacket that he had on when I arrived home. I grabbed the towel that I had discarded on the floor earlier and wrapped it around me.

“What could the emergency be? It is storming outside, you cannot go there now,” I said.

“I have to take care of this,” he turned around and moved closer to me. Placing a kiss against my forehead. “You don’t need to wait up for me if you fall asleep, I don't know how long this will take. It might be the entire evening.” he said with a sympathetic smile before leaving the bathroom.

I was not feeling comfortable about this. Was he just going to put his life in danger just because of an emergency at the company? Maybe the storm has something to do with it, but I will check in on him later.

Later in the evening, as I lay in bed, scrolling through my phone, I couldn’t shake off the pang of worry. Was Rick okay? Should I call him? I was one not to be clingy or to call whenever he was working late. I always had patience, but there was an ongoing storm outside, and I didn’t want anything to happen to him.

I let out a breath and just called him, pressing the phone against my ear. His phone was ringing, and then it went to voicemail. That made me worry even more. I tried for a second time again, but still it rang and went to voicemail.

So, I tried his mother. It was almost midnight. “Hello?” she answered.

“Is Rick still at the company? He said that there was an emergency, and he had to tend to something, but I am worried about him since there is a storm. Have you seen him or heard from him?” I asked.

“What emergency? There is no emergency, darling,” she said with confusion laced in her voice.

“Rick told me that he had to tend to it, so I figured you knew about it.”

“Well, I would have known if there was an emergency at the company, but there isn't anything. That I promise you. Maybe he was going to go get some work done, but why would he in this storm?” she responded.

“That is…something that I don’t know.” Where was he then? Was he lying to me?

She let out a sigh, “I will see what is going on. Chat later,” she said and hung up before I could say anything.

I placed my phone on the bed beside me, eagerly waiting for him to text me back or call. Anger resurfaced mixed with worry. I hate this. Was work going to be the excuse every time?

Then, by surprise, my phone rang, it was Rick. I answered as fast as I could. “Hey, where are you?” I asked.

“I’m at the company taking care of an emergency, I told you earlier. My mother called-”

“She said that there was no emergency, she would know.” I interrupted him.

“I’m finishing up some work.”

“So, that is your emergency?” I sat up straight as I was about to explode with anger.

“I said do not wait up for me. I have to go. See you tomorrow evening,” he hung up.

Evening?

Well, I guess he will stay there since he will be at the company. I just don’t understand why he would do this while there is a storm. He could have worked from home. If this is how it will be, he will not see the good side of me tomorrow evening, especially since we have to attend dinner at his father's place. So, instead of going to sleep, I got up and sat at my desk, continuing to write my story.

Yet, even as time weaves its healing threads, the lingering whispers of his emotional abuse echo in the chambers of my mind. Like phantom pains, the scars of his words tingle, a constant reminder of the battles fought in the silence of our shared history. The aftermath isn't merely a collection of memories, but a landscape altered by his emotional storms. I tread cautiously, navigating relationships with a hesitancy born from the fear that his tempest might still find its way into the haven I've painstakingly built. Yet, with each day, I find the courage to confront those echoes, to challenge the narrative he etched, and to rewrite the script of my own resilience. The journey continues, a testament to the strength that emerges from the quiet aftermath of emotional storms.

An enigma lingers in the corridors of my past, a mystery intertwined with the storms of my stepfather's emotional abuse. My mother, a spectral presence haunting the edges of my memories, departed one stormy night, leaving behind a void that even time couldn't fill.

The details of her departure remain shrouded in ambiguity, a puzzle with missing pieces that I've been unable to recover. No tearful goodbyes, no whispered explanations, just the echoing silence of her absence. In the tapestry of my tumultuous upbringing, her departure is the thread left dangling, a mystery that continues to cast its shadow over the narrative of my past. The unanswered questions carve an ache in my soul, and the echoes of her absence reverberate with an unanswered longing, a yearning to unravel the enigma of her departure and understand the cryptic reasons behind her silence.

“I will come back for you,” she said.

To this day, I am still waiting for her. She never came back to get me. Should I keep on wondering where she is?