Madame Williams ( teacherxstudent )

40

DIANE'S POV

"Hello!"

"Mother of God!" I screamed, almost dropping my purse, "Dad! What are you doing here... You scared the living shit out of me." I put a hand over my chest, feeling my heartbeat going fastened.

Not a second after unlocking my own home, I had already had someone broken in and had almost suffered a heart attack.

"Remember I have a key! I was coming to give you the record player you wanted and to check on you." He said nicely, "How's my princess doing?"

I immediately made a mental note to get rid of his key somehow because I didn't want him walking in on me and my younger girlfriend.

"Oh no, don't call me that." I chuckled. Every time he called me Princess I cringed — my sister didn't mind the nickname though.

I turned on the lights of my house, wondering why this man was willing to wait in the dark for me.

My dad closed the door for me, "Your mother called." His voice sounded the amount of concern I didn't want him to be.

It was weird to even think that both my mother and father had been together for so long, and even weirder to think who my mother had become after all this time, and how my dad had barely changed his haircut.

"No she didn't." I walked all the way to my cozy living room and took off my purse, leaving it on my couch.

"Yes she did." My dad followed me and sat down on the chair he always sat in when he visited.

I ignored him. I sat down, took off my heels and looked around until I found it. That damn record player. "It's so beautiful! I didn't think you would fix it after all."

"I did a great job, right?" He raised his eyebrows.

I nodded, and looked at him. He looked older than ever and I missed him so much, even if he lived literally behind me.

"Right! Two years after I begged you for it." I chuckled spontaneously.

"Princess, I'm worried." He said, coming back to whatever my mother decided to tell him.

I couldn't ignore the feeling of adrenaline in my stomach while he looked at me with those sad old dog eyes that screamed he wanted to take care of me.

I let out a sigh of tiredness, "Did you bring the Fleetwood Mac vynils?"

"Stop avoiding this conversation, Diane." He said, not sounding harsh, but not sounding calm either. He was upset, he probably felt like a failure, being so close to me yet so far.

"Dad, you shouldn't have to listen to any of her phone calls." I made eye contact with him.

"Jill said you fainted, that you're probably going through a lot of stress. She said she'd like you to get help."

"Help?"

"Help. A therapist maybe, she said she could recommend some of her colleagues." My father said, his lips curling up to a small smile, "Maybe you can go once per week. It would do you good."

I scoffed. "No. I'm sorry, but I have a lot in my plate right now. I have a thousands kids that I have to teach everyday, I have a relationship I'm working on, I literally have to write a two page report for each student and send them before Thanksgiving break. I'm busy and tired and I don't have the energy to talk to a stranger about my childhood traumas and how there's a tree that I call my son. So really, dad, I don't need more things on my agenda."

He sighed, "Honey, your mom and I want the best for you, that's why I came here to talk to you. You should call more often, and you should introduce me to your partner as well."