Fake It Like You Matter

"Thank you so much, Peter." I said holding his hand, back in Chicago.

It was around 8 in the morning and Pete was just walking me to my door.

"You're welcome, Lovely," He smiled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Sometimes big surprises like this can be big disasters."

"It wasn't a disaster at all," I kissed his hand and we walked up the steps to the door, "It was perfect, and it meant a lot. I don't think I'll ever be able to say thank you enough. "

"It meant just as much that you liked it, and that I got to know that part of you," He set down my suitcase and slid his arms around my waist.

Mine automatically went up around his neck and he kissed me gently.

"I love you," He whispered.

"I love you too," I smiled and couldn't suppress my giggle, "And we've gotten so much better at that... Remember how much the first one sucked?"

"Yeah..." He laughed, "Thanks. Because, you know, I wasn't like, trying to forget or anything..."

Suddenly the front door of my house swung open and my dad was standing in the entrance, looking from me to Pete, back to me.

Our laughter ceased immediately at the sight of him and my eyes grew wide. I had never seen my dad look so upset with me, and that was a huge statement, because I usually went out of my way to piss him off.

"Dad?" I swallowed, and he looked out over the front yard, but stepped back, allowing me entrance. When Pete just stood there, my father cleared his throat, letting Pete know he wasn't off the hook either.

Pete cast an uneasy look in my direction but crossed the threshold after me to take whatever my dad had to throw at us together. He wasn't going to leave me hanging and I appreciated him more in that moment than I ever had.

"I've been in Los Angeles for two months, missing my home, missing my daughter, and I'm finally able to come back to see her and she's all but disappeared..." He began steadily.

He wasn't looking at either of us, he was glancing slowly around the library, the room we'd followed him into after he closed the door. It was almost like we weren't there at all, like he was talking to himself, then his line of vision stopped on me, and I felt my stomach lurch, mush in the same way it had when the plane had landed on the runway of O'Hare an hour earlier.

"I searched the house, tried your cell phone, called your work, called Dr. Adams... I even checked that God forsaken, needle infested park you like to hang out in for some reason. No sign of you anywhere," He shook his head, "Love, I was so worried, I've been up all night..."

"Dad," I sighed.

He turned to Pete, "But, now I understand."

Pete glanced at me for half a second, not daring to take his eyes off my father for any longer.

"Now it all makes so much more sense. I finally know why youv'e been acting the way you have all this time," He sighed over at me, "I thought you were better than this Love."

At the word 'this' he made a slight gesture in Pete's direction, and that along with his next comment made something inside my bubble over.

"I thought you were more like your mother," He shook his head and I dropped Pete's hand and stepped forwards.

"You don't even know what you're saying," I hissed, glaring so hard my face hurt, "You're so caught up in your own world, trying to distract yourself from what you've become that you cant even see who I am at all, so don't tell me I'm not like her."

"She never would have acted this way," He spat, "She would have been so disappointed in you."

"And what would she say if she could see you now?" I whispered back fiercely, stepping even closer to him, "Do you think she'd even still love you?"

I saw the anger flash in his eyes, but I didn't see his arm raise, or hear him yell, only felt the explosion of pain, high on my cheek as the back of his hand collided with my reddened face.

Before I had even grasped what had happened, Pete had jumped forwards and pushed my dad away from me so hard that it caused him to stumble backwards a few feet, but he was still screaming.

"You will not speak to me that way!" He roared, moving closer and Pete pushed him back again.

"Stop it!" I cried, pulling Pete by the back of his t-shirt. Tears had begun pouring out of my eyes.

"This is none of your business," My dad was yelling at Pete now, who wasn't backing down, either.

"You just made it my fucking business," Pete snarled in response, "Because you just hurt someone I love!"