Chapter 13: Home
As I composed myself, a sense of calm washed over me, and I gently wiped the tears from my cheeks. I could feel a few sniffles and sobs still escaping from my lips, but they were becoming less frequent. My backpack, which had been my constant companion, was no longer with me as my mother had taken it. In its absence, I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out a handkerchief. With a light touch, I used it to dab away the remnants of tears on my face. I also took a moment to run my fingers through my damp hair, caused by both sweat and the emotional turmoil I had experienced. I patiently waited for the redness to subside from my entire face before I made my way out of the restroom.
I turned the doorknob, and as I stepped out, I found the forty-five-year-old man who served as my father's secretary sitting at the table. His eyes lit up with a warm smile as he saw me, and I mustered a small smile in return. However, I noticed a slight furrowing of his brow as his gaze scanned my face, picking up on the traces of redness.
"Your eyes seem red, dear. Do you have sore eyes or have you been crying?" he inquired with genuine concern.
"They're just naturally red," I responded, choosing not to disclose the truth. I wanted to avoid a prolonged conversation about my emotional state.
Sensing his skepticism, I quickly excused myself and informed him that I needed to enter my father's office. He nodded understandingly, and I proceeded toward my dad's office without further delay.
Instead of knocking, I quietly turned the doorknob and entered the room. Inside, I found my mother engrossed in a book, while my father appeared to be lost in a daze, his gaze fixed upon my mother. Unbeknownst to them, they were oblivious to my presence and failed to acknowledge my entry.
Taking a seat on the sofa, where my backpack had been left behind, I decided to delve into its contents. With a sense of anticipation, I rummaged through the bag, searching for the USB stick that my Uncle Mattias had given me. After a brief moment, I located the familiar blue USB nestled at the bottom of the backpack. Silently, I placed it on my father's desk, careful not to disturb the tranquility of the room. As my father's eyes fell upon the unexpected sight, a look of surprise reflected in his gaze. Curiously, I raised an eyebrow at him, silently questioning his reaction.
Avoiding my inquisitive gaze, my father approached me, his footsteps echoing in the room. "Why are my princess's eyes red? Did you cry?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.
Shaking my head vigorously, I deliberately averted my gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. My action prompted my dad to playfully tousle my neatly combed hair, causing my frown to deepen. Determined, I met his gaze once more, silently conveying my disapproval. I frowned when his eyes was still on me.
"I can't believe you would dare to lie to me," my father persisted, his voice filled with disbelief. "Tell your daddy the truth. Your mother knows exactly what's going on. Come on, don't keep us waiting."
I let out another exasperated sigh in response. He grabbed my cheeks and pinched them, but I mustered enough strength to lightly slap his hand away, causing him to chuckle and release his grip.
"Dad, it's really nothing," I assured him, my tone filled with sincerity.
His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at me, clearly unconvinced by my words.
"So, you were crying for no reason?" he questioned, squinting his eyes in suspicion. The wrinkles around his eyes became more prominent.
My father continued to pester me, but fortunately, my mother intervened, urging him to leave me alone.
"Antonio, let your daughter be. Can't you see she's annoyed by your constant badgering?" Mom reprimanded, putting an end to my father's pestering.
Dad pouted and walked away from my side. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but smirk as Mom became the target of his playful teasing. She began to complain about my father's noise, adding her voice to the mix.
As the clock struck eight-thirty, Mom suggested it was time to head home. Dad tidied up his office and carefully placed a blue USB into his laptop bag.
I slung my backpack over my shoulder and stepped out first. Mom followed suit, and then Dad locked up his office, bidding farewell to his secretary who was engrossed in organizing paperwork. All he offered us was a warm smile and a reminder to take care.
The office was still bustling with employees as we made our way through. Upon spotting us, they greeted us with nods and smiles, acknowledging their boss family's presence.
Their work hours ranged from six o'clock in the morning to six o'clock in the evening. They had a lot on their plate and were constantly occupied, but during lunch and break times, they could temporarily set their work aside and focus on themselves. Their salaries reflected their dedication, with no less than 80,000 pesos being earned each month.
Dad's company was thriving, despite his seemingly relaxed approach to running it. Behind the scenes, everything was in order. Sales ratings and other performance metrics were consistently impressive. As an only child, like me, Dad had inherited the business, and my mother played a crucial role in managing the malls and restaurants we also owned.
The elevator chimed, signaling our arrival on the ground floor. Dad stepped out first, followed by Mom. I furrowed my brow, puzzled as to why we were exiting through this particular exit.
"Your brilliant father decided to park in front rather than using his own designated parking lot," Mom replied, seemingly reading the confusion on my face.
Realizing the elevator doors were about to close again, I hurriedly pressed a button to keep them open and swiftly stepped out.
Dad's car beeped as he unlocked it, prompting me to quickly settle into the backseat. I removed my backpack from my shoulders, preparing for the journey ahead.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the gentle embrace of sleep, unaware of the subtle pull of drowsiness that gradually enveloped me. Time slipped away, slipping through my grasp, as I succumbed to the peaceful abyss of slumber.
Suddenly, I was jolted awake by a gentle tap on my shoulder, disrupting the tranquility of my rest. Confusion and disorientation washed over me as I struggled to regain my bearings in the hazy borderland between dreams and reality.
"Yvonne, we're already home," my mother's voice whispered, breaking through the fog of my drowsiness, grounding me in the present moment.
As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, a dull ache reverberated through my weary eyes. Gradually, the world around me began to come into focus, morphing from blurry shapes and shadows into recognizable forms. The familiar contours of our surroundings materialized before me, as if emerging from a misty veil that had shrouded my perception.
It dawned on me that the car had ceased its rhythmic motion, signaling our arrival at the place we call home. The comforting stillness in the air confirmed that we had completed our journey, and the familiar sights and sounds of our residence began to seep into my consciousness.
As I slowly stirred from my somnolent state, I couldn't help but marvel at the seamless transition from the realm of dreams to the realm of wakefulness. It was as though time had warped, compressing the journey into a fleeting moment, leaving me momentarily bewildered and uncertain of the passage of time.
With a newfound clarity, I took in the scene around me—the familiar facade of our home, bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, casting soft shadows on the front yard. The comforting symphony of crickets chirping and leaves rustling in the night breeze filled the air, serving as a soothing lullaby that serenaded my senses.
Rubbing my eyes gently, I shook off the last remnants of drowsiness, allowing my consciousness to fully awaken. The fatigue that had weighed on my body dissipated, replaced by a surge of energy and anticipation. It was time to embark on the next chapter of the day, to immerse myself in the embrace of home and embrace the warmth and familiarity that awaited me within its walls.