Before he can answer, a loud screech comes from the head of the table and everyone turns their head to watch as Dad stands up, plants his clenched fists onto the table, and glares at Daniel like he wants to reach over and wrap his hands around his throat.
“I will not sit here and pretend that everything is okay,” his voice booms, making everyone freeze. “You,” he points a finger at Daniel, “do not deserve my daughter.”
He then shocks us all by throwing an angry glare at Mum as he storms out of the room. We sit in stunned silence, my brother and I looking at each other with gaping mouths and widened eyes, no one knowing what to do.
Dad never,ever,raises his voice. Nor does he ever get angry with Mum. He’s the most calm, placid person you’ll ever meet, the yin to Mum’s hysterical yang.
We unanimously look toward Mum, who herself isstunned by Dad’s outburst. When she finally comes to, she pats down her apron and lets out a small, feverish laugh.
“Never mind Frank,” Mum says to Daniel, taking a seat next to him. “You were telling us what you’ve been up to?” Mum picks up her fork and stabs a piece of lettuce, but I can tell she’s rattled by Dad’s behaviour. She’s done some stupid shit over the years. Been scammed out of money, accidentally left the bath water running while she popped out to the shops and flooded the bedrooms, even scraped the paint off the side of Dad’s prized old mustang when she backed it out of the garage so the delivery guys could haul her treadmill inside. And Dad’s reaction to all of that was ‘It’s fine, love. No one was hurt and that’s the main thing.’ So for Dad to finally crack it at her overthisfeels unsettling.
I look at Tony, who raises his brows and shrugs. Once again a rush of gratitude for the men in my family threatens to overwhelm me. Dad has always supported me in his own quiet, non-obvious way. He’s definitely never left a plate of food that Mum’s cooked untouched on my behalf before.
“Not much, Mrs M,” Daniel says cautiously, also picking up his fork, bringing me back to the situation before me. “Keeping my head down. Playing football. Missing my wife terribly. That’s all really.”
Yeah, keeping his head downwhereis the question. I fight back the urge to scoff, laugh or scream. I’m not sure which would win if I opened my mouth right now, but I won’t play into Daniel’s hands. He’s trying to paint himself as a remorseful, devoted husband, but I know better.
Mum just nods in acknowledgment and looks at me pointedly, as if to saysee? He’s really sorry!Ignoring both Daniel’s comment and her, I make to stand and follow after Dad, but Mum reaches over and places a hand on my forearm, keeping me in my seat.
“Stay. I’ll go speak to him,” she says, already rising.
When she’s gone, I grab the tongs and load pasta on to my plate, even though the smell of garlic is making my stomach turn. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s my hangover making me feel sick, Daniel’s presence or my Dad’s unusual behaviour. At some stage, while Daniel tries to make conversation with Tony, Lia drifts back in and makes a plate for her and Leo, muttering something about Leo wanting to eat in the kitchen with his monster trucks. She gives me a reassuring look as she backs out, mouthing ‘I’m here if you need’.
With Mum gone and Tony here as a backup, a small fire ignites in my belly. I feel Daniel’s eyes on me as I pile carbs on to my plate, knowing exactly what’s he’s thinking but unable to say to me with an audience. Old feelings of uselessness start to creep in, attempting to stifle my fire, but as I twirl pasta around my fork in my own little act of defiance, I choose to let the anger burn through my veins with a fiery passion instead.
“I’m surprised to hear you’ve been missing me,” I say around my mouthful of pasta. “I’ve been really happy. Thriving, actually.” My mind to flicks to the hotel and how it felt to have that man’s hands on me, but I quickly push those thoughts from my mind. I might not actually bethriving, but I have been happy lately. Daniel doesn’t own me anymore. I’m in control of my own life. The reminder is what I need to push on.
Daniel casts his gaze meaningfully over my clammy face, rumpled hair and casual clothes. When we were together, I never would have been allowed to leave the house looking like this. When his gaze finally lands on my plate, the look on his face would once have been enough for me to swap my pasta over for a salad, but not anymore. I can eat what-ever the hell I want. I stare into his eyes and reach for a deep-fried cutlet, making sure to take a big bite while I stare him down.
Go on, tell me to put the fork down because no one wants to be married to a fat ass. I dare you.
Of course he doesn’t say a word, instead he just gives me one of his cocky smiles. Living on the edge, I smile back.
“Good to see you haven’t lost your appetite.”
“Anna and I had a big night last night,” I respond, licking the oil that’s dripping down my fingers. “Need to soak up all the alcohol somehow.”
I know my words are going to piss him off, but I can’t stop myself. As much as I’m shitting myself on the inside, it feels so good to stand up to him, even if it’s in such a small way. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere in our relationship I started subconsciously filtering what came out of my mouth, in case what I said upset my husband. I lost my voice, and it feels so damn good to find it again. Tony’s gaze ping-pongs back and forth between us. He’s not used to the bitterness pouring from my mouth, especially directed toward myhusband.
Daniel is trying not to show it, but he’s angry. He’s had lots of practice hiding his emotions in this room, but I’ve had lots of practice picking up on the signs. The cruel spark in his eyes; the way his jaw subtly clenched down when I mentioned Anna’s name.
You’re not leaving with him,I remind myself.You won’t have to deal with this later.
“Sounds like fun,” he answers in a tone that suggests the opposite.
“It was.” I reach for another cutlet. “I realised I have a lot of lost time to catch up on.”
Daniel puts down his fork and takes a sip of water. “Andyour family is okay with you going out, putting yourself in dangerous situations?”
Anger flares in my chest. Daniel’s pissed off that he can’t control me anymore, so he’s using mysafetyas a cover to have a dig at my family?
Predictably, Tony reacts to Daniel’s accusations. He slams down his cutlery, offended.
“Gianna isn’t in danger,” Tony argues, his brows drawn. “She’s going out and having fun, something she should have done before settling down anyway.” I cast a sideways glance at Tony, who sends a small nod in my direction.
“Maybe a little bit too much fun by the looks of it,” Daniel adds, unable to help himself. He’s never been so outwardly controlling of me in front of my family, and I can’t help but think that maybe he has been affected by our time a part. While I’ve been out enjoying my new-found freedom, it seems that Daniel might be struggling to come to terms with the fact he no longer runs my life. I’m staring at him with narrowed eyes when Tony pipes up again.
“What exactly are you insinuating?” Tony’s voice is unusually cold, and I turn to look at him. He’s looking at Daniel as if seeing him in a new light. Tony might take the piss out of me when I turn up to lunch with a hangover, but he doesn’t hold the same traditional views as my mother.
