My Dad's Bestfriend

Sienna

Cherry has terminal cancer. Yeah that sentence had been stuck with me since Alex dropped me off. It lodged in my head the moment she said it, so casually, as if she'd already accepted her fate. It hurt to look at them both, knowing one of them was counting her days.

I didn't know why it hurt so much — a woman I'd only met today, and already the idea of her dying felt like a physical ache. The doctor hadn't given a timeframe. A year, two, a few months - anything was possible. I didn't know how Thomas would cope; from what I'd seen, he loved her so much—it made my chest ache.

Watching them that day, despite the tragedy, filled a gaping hole inside me. It was painful and oddly beautiful to see love still exist so fiercely in this stupid world full of shallow people.

The night passed like that - tossing, turning, replaying why Alex was there. Why was he in my thoughts, in my life all of a sudden? And why wasn't I doing everything I could to push him away? Morning came with a bleary-eyed notification: an email from my agency.

The exhibition would be on August 10th — only ten days from today.

Then another notification: a text from my ex, Ryatt. The man was a walking headache.

"Why doesn't he just go and fuck himself?" I muttered, hiding the notification without opening it. I swung my legs out of bed, freshened up, feeling oddly lighter, and went downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, Dad." I hugged him from behind as he sat, leafing through documents and sipping coffee. "What are you working on so early?"

"Good morning, princess." He ruffled my hair, smiling. "Just some office shit I couldn't finish last night because your mother threw a tantrum."

"Tantrum?" Mom appeared with plates, planting them before us and giving Dad a pointed look. "I threw a tantrum? You were the one watching stupid reels instead of giving me attention, and for calling that out I'm the one throwing tantrums?"

"Sorry, baby." Instead of arguing, Dad reached for apology like he always did, sliding his hand around her waist. "I did give you attention afterwards, didn't I?" He gave her a look; she blushed.

I bit into my sandwich and wrinkled my nose. "Find a room, you two."

"Oh we will." Dad chuckled, kissing Mom's shoulder. She snapped away, red as a tomato.

"Jacob! How many times do I have to tell you—"

"Don't do this in front of Sienna, be a little decent like other parents-" I finished for Mom in her usual tone. "As if he ever listens." I grabbed my glass of orange juice. "Calm down - I'm immune to it now. I can turn a blind eye."

"See?" Dad smiled, finding his way back to reason. "Now come here—"

Before he could pull her close, Mom slapped his hand away. "Get away and have your breakfast! You'll be late."

"God, Evelyn." He rolled his eyes. "You are unbelievable."

I tuned their antics out and ate, because I was starving, until Dad interrupted.

making both Mom and me freeze. "Did you two fight? He hardly calls - he's always been too afraid of me." He

slid down my spine and I shifted in

Dad was like that - observant to the point of seeing through you. You

a tiny nod. Dad cocked

broke

as if seeking confirmation. When Mom stayed silent he leaned back, jaw hard, hand tightening around the pen. "When

he wouldn't ask. Not because it didn't hurt - because I knew he'd

first; then he asked again. "When did you find out,

used my full name. When he did, it meant trouble. I drew a

hand on the table, grabbed his coat. "He'll be in

Oh no.

I could stand, he was already at the door. Mom moved faster

His lips were a thin line. "That asshole dared to stoop that low.

other arm. "No,

We

worry." He tried to go again but Mom and Je clung to him I'd never seen him this furiousbefore; it scared me. With his past media presence, we couldn't risk

of

depended on it. "I don't want this, okay? I don't want any of us-least tangh gled with him again. He's a piece of shit and he belongs where he is. I don't want our hands

look I couldn't read, then Dad softened. He reached up and cupped my face; his eyes were unexpectedly

made me

small. "I will not do anything." He pulled me into a hug. His warmth wrapped around me and, for a breath, the weight of the heartbreak eased. "Thanks, Dad," I whispered, burying my face in his chest. Hot tears slipped free. Mom smoothed my hair. "It's okay, baby. You can cry-holding it in only makes it

to," I lied, and a sob escaped

shelter. Still, a thought flickered through me—if Ryatt

***

was weird that I still liked watching Cinderella. Even weirder that Dad still enjoyed

had left

three of us had

rotting in

We did

often. It didn't feel strange

me at all.

s

I painted, partly finished one canvas, rinsed

settled in like a

know what to