My Dad's Bestfriend

Evelyn

The air in the room constricted around me like a vice, every breath a struggle against the weight of the situation bearing down on my chest. As I sank onto the bed, the gravity of it all seemed to amplify, squeezing out any semblance of ease I had left in me. Hands trembling, I fought for air, the echoes of his venomous words from that time clawing their way back into my consciousness. And now, like a relentless barrage, his recent words, laden with sincerity, replayed in my mind, tormenting me with their conflicting truths. How could someone be so cruel and yet so convincingly sincere?

"I will never fucking forgive you, you bastard," I muttered, the words bitter on my tongue as tears traced a path down my cheeks. Alone in that suffocating space, it felt absurd to engage in a conversation with myself, yet I couldn't help but vocalize the turmoil within. How foolish I must have seemed, reminiscing about the moments shared with him, replaying them like a broken record.

Damn it! I had convinced myself that I could finally break free from his grip, but here I was, tangled in the same fucked-up, screwed-up, absolutely frustrating emotional web once again.

It felt like I hadn't budged an inch from where I started. He lingered, stubbornly entrenched in the depths of my heart, just as he had since I was a naive kid, having this stupid crush on her dad's best friend. When would I ever break free from this suffocating grip? This toxic cycle was beyond unhealthy; it was downright sickening.

Why did I even fucking love him?!!!!

"I'll never fucking forgive you for how ruthlessly you shattered my heart," I whispered through clenched teeth, drawing my knees in closer, seeking solace in their embrace as I buried my face against my arms, muffling the quiet sobs that escaped.

The realization hit hard; that asshole had shattered me with such ease.

I was exhausted. Exhausted from the incessant thoughts of him, exhausted from his pathetic excuses, his twisted methods of inflicting pain, only to return with hollow apologies, expecting forgiveness on a silver platter. But not this time. I had reached my limit; I wouldn't let him back in, not again.

Brushing away the tears that refused to fucking stop, I focused on steadying my breath, willing myself to stop shedding tears over that despicable man. Just as I managed to regain a semblance of composure, my phone buzzed, interrupting the silence of the room.

Cameron's name lit up the screen, and without hesitation, I opened his message.

"Well, I know it's too early to ask, but is there a chance that we can meet again?"

Without a second thought, I replied, "I was thinking the same thing. Let's meet again."

***

Today had gone surprisingly smoothly, likely because of my decision to remain holed up in my room for the majority of it, avoiding any chance encounters with Jacob. I had no intention of risking an encounter with Jacob, not willing to revert to that weakling who crumbled at the mere sight of him.

Thankfully, both Clara and Dad respected my need for space. Even Jacob seemed to understand, choosing not to intrude or coerce me into conversation. It was a small relief, a temporary reprieve from the turmoil his presence stirred within me.

And now as the night descended, the truth remained unchanged-I had spent the entire day consumed by thoughts of Jacob. Not even avoiding him could dispel his hold over my mind and heart. That man was embedded in every fucking cell of my body. He was there-running deep in my veins, setting them on fire-every single moment.

Yet amidst the relentless whirlwind

of emotions, I'd add one thing-there was a brief respite I found in conversations with Cameron. His company provided a welcome distraction, albeit tinged with guilt for using him as such. But for once, I allowed myself to be selfish. After

all had learned thefter

way that selflessness only led to misery. Now, I was determined to pursue my own happiness, to explore avenues that didn't lead back to Jacob Adriano. I was not going back to him-ever.

Suddenly, the craving for wine began to gnaw at me, a familiar urge in times of stress. It would dull the edges of my anxiety and perhaps lull me into a semblance of sleep, however elusive it seemed.

But what if I run into him?

Enough. I needed to rip off the bandaid anyway-it wasn't as if I would be able to avoid him during his entire stay. Afterall we were under the same roof. So why waste energy on worry?

Fuck this!

With a resolve that bordered on

desperation, I left the comfort of my

bed, slipped on my cozy slippers, and descended the stairs. The silence enveloped the house,

amplifying the pounding of my heart as I made my way to the kitchen. Yet, my apprehension materialized the moment I stepped inside-there he was, Jacob, leaning against the counter, effortlessly opening a bottle of beer with his teeth, the cap clattering to the floor in sync with the pounding of my heart.

Moonlight filtered through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon his features. His presence was magnetic, drawing my gaze to his sculpted physique, his biceps, his abs, his sun-kissed skin begging to be touched. Sixteen days had passed since I last felt his touch, his lips on mine, his hands on me and my hands on him...sixteen fucking days, well now, it was seventeen.

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A careless spill of beer traced a path down his chin, a tantalizing invitation for my fingers to erase the evidence. His tousled hair framed his face, a wild contrast to his controlled demeanor, tempting me to abandon reasons and run my hands through the silky locks. I longed to taste him, terun my fingers through his tousled hair, to inhale the familiar scent of his shampoo. My lungs

ached for it-for the scent of him to penerate deep into them.

But as his eyes met mine, reality crashed over me like a tidal wave. Instead of freezing in his gaze, I forced myself to act with rationality for once. Without missing a beat, I turned to leave, my body moving on autopilot. But just as I reached the threshold, his voice, deep and familiar, halted me in my tracks.

Just as I reached the threshold, his voice, as deep and resonant as ever, shattered the silence. "Don't mind me, Evelyn. This is your house anyway."