On the Verge ~ (Seth Clearwater Imprinting Story)

Chapter 3 (Violet's POV)

I stared in the rear view mirror at Seth who stood in his spot. I felt shame convulse my whole body. He had been so nice to me, and just when I thought nothing could ruin this, he sees what I didn’t want anyone else to witness. I could smell the alcohol strongly in the car.

When I first saw him, my heart mended. I couldn’t stop staring at him and felt embarrassed when I remembered his touch.

He was surprisingly warm.

I absentmindedly rubbed my hands together to warm them up.

I looked instantly at my father; anger fuming inside of me. I looked at his profile, feeling the anger diminish as my eyes raked over his tired bloodshot eyes.

My life was already changed and Max had everything to do with it, but for some reason I felt even angrier at him.

He was the only person I had left in my life. My mother died of cancer when I was young. I fought back tears.

I turned back towards the windscreen and closed my eyes. A tear escaped and rolled down my cheek.

“What are you crying for?” Max suddenly asked, his words slurred.  

I quickly wiped it away, and felt the car drift to the wrong side of the road. “Hey, how about you let me drive?” I said.

“No, I got it” he replied suddenly defensive.

His head drooped onto the steering wheel as the car drifted to the wrong side again.

“Dad!” I shouted. I reached for the steering wheel.

His head shot up and he pulled over to the side of the road. “How about you drive?” he murmured softly.

I nodded and we swapped seats.

His head rested on the window as I drove down the road to our new house. I shook him gently. “Dad, we’re home now” I said.

His eyes opened and he slumped out of the car. I helped him up the steps and into the house.

He dropped into his armchair.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” I asked.

“No” he said as he pushed me away.  

He reached for the liquor on the table and put it to his lips.

“No, Dad” I protested reaching for it.

“Go away!” he shouted at me.

I reeled back at his sudden outburst, and then left him with his bottle. I cleaned up the house of the bottles that were littered everywhere. I raided his cabinet and emptied out all the liquor bottles down the sink.

I didn’t care if he screamed at me later or if he pushed me into the wall, as long as there was no alcohol left in the house.

When I checked on him, he was asleep in the armchair, the empty bottle in his hand. I took it from his grasp lightly, trying not to wake him and threw it away.

I hurried into the kitchen to make him dinner. I roasted chicken fillets and made mashed potatoes, knowing that he will be hungry after he slept it off.

The smell of chicken filled the air as it roasted in the frying pan. I reached for the handle of the pan and accidentally burnt myself.

I jumped back automatically and ran my hand under the cold tap.

Somehow it reminded me of Seth. His warm hands clasped around mine.

The one person who had ever payed attention to me; and for some reason I felt that I was hurting him.