Angel in the Courtyard [Book 2]

Chapter 111 - Khaleel

Arisa and the others had done such a great job calming my nerves, yet one look at Papa, and all of it became fucking futile. My anxiety shot through the roof when his cold and daunting expression landed on me. I felt like I was standing lonesome, on floorboards that might break under me. The memories from middle school struck me like lightening and reminded me of the little runt who was desperate for his father's attention. He was willing to do anything to get it. He felt no remorse for the people he hurt along the way, or considered the stress he caused his teachers, peers, and uncle.

That little bitch. I couldn't relate to him at all anymore. He really was willing to be lonely in exchange for a closed heart. Hino was the first one to break down my door, then Zander, and then Loyal. Even Tomasia tried at one point or another. It was hard to hold onto that feeling. It was hard to remind myself how far I had come, and that I wasn't alone anymore. I had my boys. I had Arisa. So, why couldn't I see past all the hurt Papa caused? My girlfriend got a hold of my pinky and gently held it. And just like that, my foggy mind began to clear, and my pounding chest settled. I took a slow breath and I attempted to face Papa with a strong resolve.

"I-I got no plans to travel this year," I said, my voice shaking a little. "S-So, feel free to cancel the ticket you bought."

Papa eyed everyone else in the room. "You seem to have a lot of guests over," he said, ignoring my statement. "We can talk about things after they see themselves out."

"We're not going anywhere," Arisa spoke up.

Papa nodded. "Alright, then enjoy your stay. I see Kumar has already brought out the tea and biscuits. Rida and I will excuse ourselves and meet with you at a later time, Khaleel."

"That won't work," Hino smiled. "See, Khaleel has a few things he has to say to you, and whether or not you deem this an appropriate time for that, he's going to say them anyway."

Papa's stare was chilling. "Khaleel."

"W-What?"

"If you have words to share then share them, stop standing behind your friends like a coward."

My legs stiffened in fear. "I'm not a coward," I retorted. "I'm your kid. Can't you for just a few minutes talk to me like you do to those step-daughters of yours? I know I was a little shit back in the days. I know I haven't done a lot of good, or behaved well enough for you to give me such courtesy, but couldn't you just try anyway? Instead of threatening me with plane tickets and challenging me to a fight, can't you just discipline me like a normal dad?"

"Our dynamic has never been normal," came the calm reply. "And it probably never will be because you don't respond well to traditional discipline, you never have."

Dead silence.

Mrs. Hoffman moved to urge her daughter and Hino out of the living area and into my bedroom. Arisa tried to resist but her mother broke her defiance with one gentle expression. It was as if she was saying, they have a lot to discuss, and having us listening in isn't making things easier. I suppose as an adult, she thought that was for the best. Knowing they were just a few steps away helped me maintain my composure.

"I didn't respond well to them because they were always given to me by Kumar," I said, continuing my discussion with Papa. "If you made an effort to be around, to actually raise me, and to show me an ounce of understanding or comfort like he did then things would be different."

"He's right, Yusuf," Kumar sighed.

My uncle's words not only surprised me but also Papa. "Right," my old man agreed. "We know this. We have accepted that if I hadn't been so busy putting a roof over your head and food in your mouth—"

"Stop guilt tripping me!" I interrupted. "That's your job. As a dad, that's your fucking duty. You're the one who chose to have a kid. I didn't ask to be born, so stop blaming me for wanting the bare minimum! You can be busy, and working, and still convey signs of love and affection. You do it all the fucking time with Maha and Yunma. So, don't stand there and make such bullshit excuses!"

Another dead silence.

Rida finally made a comment. "This is why he's so reluctant to accept us, Yusuf," she said, teary eyed. "He feels neglected and unheard."

My adrenaline was kicking in again, making me braver than I should be and more confident than I was prepared to be. "God, even she gets it," I scoffed.

"He feels neglected and unheard because he's never made any effort himself," Papa argued with Rida. "How many times have you tried to reach out to him, to talk with him, and have dinner with him, but has he shown us any signs of appreciation or understanding? No, he hasn't."

"It's because he's angry, Yusuf!" Rida replied. "He grew up without a mother and an absent father, so of course he's going to be troubled and hurt. Of course he's going to be cautious around someone his Papa forced on him. This is exactly why I wanted to meet him long ago, this is why I wanted to get to know him before we got married. But what did you say to me? You said it was fine. You said he would be thrilled, over-the-moon to have sisters and a new step-mother."

Papa rubbed his forehead, overcome with stress.
Rida pointed at me. "Look at him! Does he look thrilled to you, Yusuf?"

Goosebumps covered my arms. I had no idea Rida felt that way, but then again, it made sense that I didn't. "If you care about your son then you have to listen to what he's saying and acknowledge his pain," Rida went on. "He's telling you he doesn't feel loved. How can you stand here and disregard that?"

"I'm not disregarding it, my love," Papa tried to reason with her. "I'm just telling him why we are the way that we are. What more would you like me to do? I can't fix things with the snap of a finger."

"You can," I interjected.

"What?" Papa blurted, suddenly speaking in Urdu.

"You can fix things with the snap of your finger," I repeated. "Cancel the plane ticket."