Daphne Vs. Daddy

Stress

So

Much

Stress

Spirit-killing stress

He seems completely oblivious to me and my dour mood, and instead pulls a skinny, tall gift bag out from behind his back. “I’ve got a surprise for you!” he says in that same sing-song voice.

At that, I sit up straight, eyeballing the package. It could be a bottle of wine, based on the shape, or some other container of alcohol. Really, any kind of alcohol is welcome at this point. I set my martini down on the coffee table and hold out my hands. “What is it?” I ask eagerly as I pull the bag towards me.

“Well, today is our seven-month anniversary,” he says and I stop pulling the tissue paper away from the bag to stare at him. He grins and shrugs. “My phone told me. So, I thought it’d be fun to buy you something to commemorate our first real meeting.”

I look at him quizzically, totally confused now. I did not remember there being wine in his office that first time I went in to talk to him.

He waves his hands impatiently towards the bag and I take the hint and turn back to the mysterious seven-month anniversary present. Oh god, now I’m going to have to find a present for him. I have no idea what kind of present you get for the seventh month as a couple.

A gold watch?

Ugh, that seems too much like a retirement gift after working at a company for forty years.

And then I finally get it out.

It being a purple vase.

The ugliest purple vase I’ve ever laid eyes on. Even uglier than the one that I broke that day in his office, as hard as that is to believe. Purple and green, it looks like a vase version of Barney. It even has the same curves as Barney, and no, that isn’t a compliment.

I stare down at the vase for a little while, my mind blank. I just don’t even know what to say, or do.

“A vase?” I finally say, my voice cracking. All I want to do is laugh hysterically.

What the ever loving fuck am I supposed to do with a purple and green vase straight from hell? Put it on the entryway table so everyone who comes in here can admire it?!

“Apollo,” I say, my voice cracking again, but this time, I feel like my body is too. “I am exhausted and I don’t want to deal with this right now and just please stop and go away and I need you to just go away.”

“Go away?” he repeats, as if he’s never heard the words before in his life.

“Yes, go away!” I snap. “And take your fuck ugly vase with you!” I can’t believe the words, even as they’re coming out of my mouth but I’m just so damned stressed, I feel like a rubber band that’s been stretched out and held there for weeks on, and now...

Now I’m snapping. Breaking in two. I grab blindly for my martini glass and only just manage to get it to my mouth rather than spill it everywhere. I take a huge gulp, the alcohol burning down my throat, and I look up and he’s still fucking standing there.

“Just go!” I shout and then I’m sobbing and my martini glass is gone out of my hand and I feel Apollo’s arms slide underneath me and he carries me to the bedroom, laying me down on the bed and pulling the covers up over me like I’m a small child, and then he

comes up and cuddles behind me, laying his arm over the curve of my waist, pulling me tight up against him.

“Shhhh…shhhh…” he whispers, stroking my hair away from my face as the endless fountain of tears that has become my eyes continues to pour out salty water. “It’s going to be okay.”

I don’t know how long I cry; it could’ve been days or weeks or just three minutes. I don’t know because I’m lost in this haze of stress and pain and sheer overwhelmedness that life has dumped on my head. But finally, I manage to get the tears to subside, or maybe there’s just no more left inside of me. But I can hear his crooning voice better now and I start to relax for probably the first time in weeks.

I have stopped bawling long enough to hear his next whispered statement. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been here more often,” he says into the nape of my neck, his breath warm and soft against my skin. “I know I’ve been working a lot, and I haven’t been here for you like I should’ve been.”

Which just makes me feel guilty. I shouldn’t need to rely on Apollo to feel whole. I should be able to stand on my own two feet.

Even if those feet love being rubbed by him after a long day at work.

“Things have just been rough at work lately,” I whisper into the darkness of the room. I don’t want to face him as I admit to my shortcomings. I want him to think I’m perfect. Is that too much to ask? “I think I just took on too much and then…” Here it is. Time to admit that I really am needy, despite the fact that I lie to myself every day and tell myself I’m not. “I’ve missed you, Apollo. I shouldn’t let it get to me, but it has. The nights when you haven’t been here…I don’t want to sleep here by myself. I can’t believe how in the last seven months, I’ve changed so much. I didn’t used to care who was there in the morning with me in my bed. I couldn’t even remember the name of the guy I woke up with the morning I met you.”