The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Chapter 268: ANGEL’S MOOD

Abigail

"I don’t want to see a therapist! I’m fine! I just want to go back to school like a normal person!" Angel’s scream echoed through the mansion.

I had only just stepped through the door, and I could already hear it.

I rushed inside, my eyes wide with surprise. I had never heard Angel scream like that.

Finnegan’s deep, tired voice followed. "Angel, Princess, please listen to me. After everything that’s happened with the accident and going to your mother’s house-"

"She’s not my mother!" Angel screamed back.

"I’m sorry," he grunted in response. "It’s just, you’ve been through more than any fourteen-year-old should have to handle. A few sessions with a therapist isn’t a bad idea. We can get you back to school next week, but right now I need to know you’re okay."

I paused in the hallway, just outside the sitting room where they were arguing. My heart sank. I had never heard them argue like this before.

The one time Angel had thrown a tantrum about going to Switzerland, it had been more like sulking than shouting.

Angel’s voice rose in anger again. "I am okay! Stop treating me like I’m broken! School has already started, my friends are moving on without me. Do you have any idea how much work I’m going to have to catch up on? Dad, I’m fine,"

"You are not fine," he grumbled. "Something is wrong. I know something is wrong-"

"Oh my god, Dad, nothing is wrong," she groaned. "And you’re keeping me locked up here like some prisoner. I just want to leave the house, Dad. I want my life back!"

Finnegan tried to reason with her. "Princess, I’m not trying to lock you up. I’m trying to protect you. You flinch every single time I try to hug you, and you barely eat,"

"I do eat,"

"Angel, I am not blind. I’ve seen you push your food around for days now. You disappear into your room for hours. Something is wrong, and I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me. A therapist can help us figure this out together. I just want you safe and happy, princess."

"You don’t understand!" she hissed. "Stop being so dramatic, okay? I’m not a baby anymore!"

"You’re my baby,"

"I don’t need you to fix everything. I just need you to let me breathe!"

I stepped into the living room right then.

"Okay, what is going on here?"

Angel whirled toward me, eyes red and angry. I was so taken aback by the fierce look on her face, I almost stumbled backward in shock.

Where was the happy, sassy kid I knew?

"Angel? What’s wrong?"

"Nothing!" She stomped her foot on the ground, throwing her hands up furiously.

"Why does everyone think there’s something wrong with me? There’s nothing wrong! I just want to be alone. I’m tired of this house. I’m tired of all of it!"

"Angel, wait, calm down-"

She stormed past me, shoulder bumping mine as she headed for the stairs. "Leave me alone!"

The door to her room slammed shut. The sound echoed through the house. My eyes were wide as saucers as I turned from where Angel had gone off to face Finnegan.

He stood there, his eyes blinking rapidly, stunned and heartbroken. I crossed the room quickly and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close.

"You okay?"

"No," he grumbled. "I don’t think any father would be okay after getting yelled at by their teenager,"

I reached up, brushing my fingers lightly over his chest. "How did it happen?"

He buried his face in my neck, sighing. "I brought up the idea of her seeing a therapist, and for some reason that makes me a fucking villain,"

"Maybe she’s just in a bad mood,"

"I don’t understand. Ever since she left Victoria’s place, she’s been like this. She’s been all closed off and... and angry. I keep trying to reach her, but she won’t talk to me. How am I supposed to help my princess if she won’t let me in?"

I stroked his back lightly, sighing deeply. "It’ll be okay. She’s been through a lot, right? Let’s just give her a little time. I’ll go talk to her, if that’s okay."

He nodded against my shoulder and pulled away. "Maybe it’s that time of the month?"

"I’ll go find out," I chuckled, leaning up on my toes to kiss his cheek, and headed upstairs. I knocked softly on Angel’s door but I got to answer.

She had been really mad when she walked past me. I sat down on the floor outside her room, my back pressing against the door.

"Hey, sweetheart. It’s me. You don’t have to open the door. I just want to talk."

I got nothing in response. "You know, I remember one time me and my Meemaw got into this insane argument. I think I was your age, and my Meemaw caught me sneaking out to meet a boy I liked. I thought the world was ending."

"Ugh, it stressed me the hell out, because she’d told me stories about how she once ran away from home because her parents wouldn’t let her wear lipstick back in the day, and yet she was all up in my case because I wanted to see Timothy Jensen. Ugh. Turned out Timothy was a jerk, though, but I would never admit that to Meemaw."

I kept talking and sharing silly childhood memories. There was one time I tried to dye my hair purple with Kool-Aid and ended up with half my hair getting chopped off.

Another time Gramps tried to teach me to drive, and we ended up in a ditch because I panicked and hit the gas instead of the brake.

I shook my head at the memory. God, my grandparents had to be the most patient people ever.

After a while, I heard the lock click, and the door opened just a crack. Angel peeked out, her eyes red from crying.