All the Little Truths (English Prep 3)

I slipped my phone back in my pocket, knowing she likely wouldn't text back. My mom nudged me with her shoulder, handing the cup of coffee back to me.

“I’m here for you when you want to talk about it, okay?”

I didn’t answer her. Instead, we both sat on the porch in silence as I tried to sort through my thoughts which all revolved around the girl next door that I swore I’d never ever let back in.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Madeline

It baffled me how my father could morph from monster to hero in a matter of a few hours. How he could sip on his coffee with a radiant smile, ruffling my hair and wrapping his arms around my mother’s waist like she was his own personal home.

She was stiff, unbeknownst to him, but her posture was nothing near relaxed. She stood at the sink and stared through the window as my father sat with me at the table and had breakfast like he hadn’t smacked my mom around the night before.

When I’d woken up this morning, the first thing on my mind was Eric. I could smell him on my covers and feel his kiss on my lips. My body felt sated and relaxed. Full of light. Until I remembered what led me to that feeling.

I shot out of bed, almost toppling over onto the carpet, and ran to my window. Dread weighed heavy on me when I saw that my father’s Jaguar was still there, which meant last night wasn’t the start of a nightmare that turned into a blissful dream. It meant that my father was home, and I had completely lost it in front of Eric.

It was probably wrong what we did. I knew, deep down, that I’d be the one hurt in the end. For all I knew, Eric was only fucking with me. Playing me. It could be part of his game. After all, he did say he’d ruin me.

But I didn’t care. The pain was worth the high. Eric made me feel so good and safe. I was full to the brim with emotions. He was all I could think about as I ate breakfast—until my father smacked his hand on the table.

I jumped as the silverware clanked together and looked at him. His bright-blue eyes were beady, but they softened at the last second, little crinkles forming around the edges. “Princess, I asked you a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” I muttered, looking around the sparkling kitchen for my mom. Where’d she go? “What did you ask?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his shirt unbuttoned at the top. “Have you noticed any new friends of your mom’s? Anyone coming over recently?”

I didn’t miss a beat. “No. Why?” I took a big bite of my pancakes, giving me time to spare before answering another question. I sat back in my chair, appearing bored.

“Are you sure?”

I swallowed, placing my fork down. “She’s been home except for a few meetings at the club here and there and the normal things she does, like grocery shopping.” It didn’t faze me even a second how effortlessly the lie came out. I'd been practicing these lines for years.

He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but he let it go. “Okay, well, I’m taking her out tonight, but I have to leave early tomorrow. Would you like to go too?”

Absolutely not. Please just go.

“Why don’t you two just go and have a date? It’s been a while since you’ve been home, Daddy. She misses you.” Sell it, Madeline. Make him think he’s her world. Just like she told you to do. If they can just get through tonight, things would go back to…normal.

He smiled as his eyes glossed over. “It’s been a while since you’ve called me that, princess. And you’re right. It has been a while. Don’t worry, I’m changing that soon. I’ve almost turned the entire company around. I’ll be home more when things settle.”

My cheeks continued to lift, but on the inside, I was completely frazzled. All I wanted to do was go back into my cocoon of thinking about Eric so I could pretend that reality—this awful reality full of fear and hate—was nonexistent.

How was I ever going to go to college when I knew my mom would be locked away with him?

I forced the rest of my pancakes down without ever breaking conversation with my father. Playing make-believe was second nature when he was home, but I was getting really tired of being the princess he thought I was.

When I’d found my mom later on in the afternoon, she was in their bathroom, putting on her red lipstick that my dad had always loved. Her mouth was puckered, the red stain effortlessly gliding over her lips.

“Getting all dressed up for a date?” I hated how disapproving my voice sounded. She didn’t deserve that.

My mom found my eyes in the mirror and nodded. “Yes, he’s taking me to his favorite restaurant.”

No surprise there.

I nodded, pushing my hair behind my ear nervously. I glanced behind my shoulder and quietly shut the bathroom door. “Dad is on the phone with a security place. He’s in

stalling cameras.”