Mom stepped around me, almost like she'd forgotten she had just dropped something. Her voice was shaky, but not weak. "Felix? Is that you?"
"Yes, Darcy. It's me," the stranger said, his voice low and unsure.
Then it happened-something that shocked me to my core. Without hesitation, Mom raised her hand and slapped the man hard across the face. The sound echoed through the house like thunder.
"How dare you come back here after nine years! Nine years without so much as a phone call!" she shouted, her voice trembling with rage.
I stood up slowly, my legs stiff from kneeling. Nine years? My stomach twisted. Wait... wasn't that when-
I looked at him again, really looked. He had my eyes-those same familiar amber-brown eyes staring back at me like a mirror. He had Tanner's black hair, and the fair skin that ran in our family. My chest tightened.
No. It couldn't be. But it was.
This man... was my father. The one who abandoned us. The one who walked away and never looked back.
Fury boiled in my veins. I clenched my fist without thinking-glass still in my hand. A sharp sting followed. Blood dripped down my palm, but I didn't care. My heart was pounding too hard, filled with hate and confusion.
"Cassandra, you're bleeding!" Dad-no, Felix-exclaimed.
I looked down at the blood seeping through my fingers. He had no right to care.
Mom turned sharply. "Cassandra, give me that rag!" She snatched it from my hand, tossed the shards in the garbage, and rushed to the sink. Hot water poured from the faucet as she soaked the rag and came back to me.
Kneeling in front of me, she gently pulled the glass from my hand and wrapped the hot rag around it. "Don't scare me like that," she whispered, her voice soft now. But I was barely listening.
He was still there. The man responsible for every ache, every tear, every unanswered question growing up. My hands trembled with the urge to strike him like Mom had-only harder.
Dad stepped in, finally closing the door behind him like he belonged here. Like he ever did. "Are you okay, Cassandra?"
Before I could even think of a response, Mom stepped in front of me. "Who said you could come in?"
He ignored her completely, looking at me again. "Cassandra, are you okay?"
That was the final straw.
This was my moment-the one I used to dream about. I'd imagined yelling at him, getting in his face, screaming about how much pain he caused. But instead, my stupid passive-aggressiveness kicked in.
"Yeah, I'm fine," I mumbled.
What? No! Why did I say that? Why did my mouth betray me like this?
No. Not this time.
"I... I..." My throat locked up. This was so frustrating.
"Speak up, Cassandra. I'm listening," he said calmly.
That was it. That was what did it.
"No, I am not fine! In fact, that's the opposite of what I am right now!" I shouted.
My voice echoed, finally released from the cage it had been trapped in for years. I wanted to scream more, to yell every insult I'd ever thought about him. But the rest of the words got stuck behind the tears. They threatened to fall, but I blinked them back. I wouldn't cry. I wasn't weak.
"Get out!" Mom yelled, stepping in between us again. "Can't you see she's hurt?"
"Yes, Darcy, I know because there's blood on the floor!" he yelled back, clearly not understanding the kind of hurt she meant.
"Get out!" she screamed again, her voice rising.
"No! I will not get out! They're my children as much as they are yours!" he shouted, voice cracking with emotion or desperation-I couldn't tell.
And that's when Mom snapped.
"You don't deserve to even call them yours!" she roared, shoving him backward into the front door.
He stumbled, slamming against it with a loud thud. For a moment, I thought things were about to spiral completely out of control-maybe someone would throw a punch, maybe someone would leave crying.
But then, a small, fragile voice broke through the chaos like a whisper in a hurricane.
"Mom... why did you push that man?" Sophie asked, standing on the stairs with her teddy bear clutched to her chest, eyes wide and scared.
The whole room froze. Even Felix-Dad-turned to look at her.
Sophie. The youngest. Just seven years old. She had no clue who this man really was. All she saw was her mother pushing a stranger. Her innocence pierced through the tension like a knife.
Mom's shoulders dropped. She turned, wiping at her face quickly and walking over to Sophie. "It's okay, baby. Mommy just got upset, that's all."
Sophie hugged her bear tighter. "Is he gonna hurt us?"
"No, sweetie. He's not going to hurt anyone," Mom assured her, glaring back at Felix like a warning.
But I could see it-the flicker of guilt in his eyes. Maybe he didn't expect to be met with so much pain. Maybe he thought coming back would fix things. He was wrong.
I held my bandaged hand close to my chest. The pain hadn't fully registered yet, not the physical kind at least. But emotionally, I was unraveling. The past had crashed into our present like that vase on the floor-shattered into pieces, impossible to put back together.
And just like that, the silence settled again.
But I knew it wouldn't last.