Chapter 21
This is my Cecilia
Colin
“Alicia. Your backpack, books, headphones, jacket, and sneakers are not going to carry themselves to your room.”
I call out when it hits me that she’s been in there for nearly half an hour and hasn’t come back for any of it.
“I’ll get it later, Dad.”
I take a long breath. “Unless you’re currently solving an equation that’s going to save humanity, you can come get them now.” My voice stays even. “Now, Alicia.”
I hear her in the hallway before I see her.
“Couldn’t you wait a little longer? I was going to get them.”
No. You weren’t. Not without being told.
“And while you’re at it, take the plate and the cup from your snack and load them into the dishwasher.” I tip my chin toward the table.
She huffs, but she does it anyway. Muttering under her breath, just loud enough for me to catch: “You used to be less annoying.”
No. I just wasn’t around the way I should’ve been. And that was worse.
She comes back and stops in front of me, arms crossed. “I don’t get it. If you pay people to clean here, shouldn’t they be the ones handling this stuff?”
“They’re not here every day. And you’re not being asked to clean the house. I’m asking you to clean up after yourself. Same as you always have.”
She scoops up her things from the couch, already working herself into a complaint. “Half my friends have people in their houses all the time. Grandma Barbara and Grandpa Richard even have a butler!”
She keeps talking as she heads down the hallway. I don’t follow or respond.
I never liked growing up surrounded by staff. When Ceci and I got married, even with more than enough money to hire an army, we never did. Privacy was always a priority.
We had weekly help for the hard work and hired additional staff for holidays and special occasions. But we never had anyone living in the house. It also felt safer that way. Just us, under one roof, with our children asleep at night.
After talking to Oliver, I know Alicia isn’t the only teenager acting up. I just have to be patient, and remember that her mother carried all of this alone for years.
Ceci’s call a few days ago hit harder than I expected. I got exactly what I wanted: a few more days with Alicia. And yet knowing she’s extending her trip because ofhimleaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
If it weren’t for Alicia, this would’ve been the worst month of my life.
I’ve been torturing myself wondering how she is, where she is, what she’s doing. And then there are the images. It gets worse at night. Every fucking night, as soon as my head hits the pillow, Istart thinking about all the things I imagine her doing with that Italian bastard.
Probably nothing worse than what I did behind her back when we were married.
I drag a hand down my face, exhausted. I was a selfish asshole that day on the phone. It happened before I could stop myself.
If I had been a good husband, a good man, we’d still be together. But as always, I only thought of myself.
A better man would’ve said something like,“You don’t have to worry. I’ll keep taking care of our daughter. You deserve this time for yourself.”
But the truth is… I’m not a good man. I tried to be better for Cecily and our kids. Eventually, I failed. Now I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be.
It was always Ceci. For everything. And when she could finally count on me after all those years of doing it alone, I reacted like a selfish, petulant jerk.
And I know that if I keep this up, when she no longer has to deal with me... when Alicia turns eighteen, Ceci won’t even want to look me in the eye anymore.
