If Only

Chapter Twenty-One: Chained

JADE

September

A month drifted by, with my father's silence casting an uneasy shadow. His appearances were limited to brief moments on TV screens, where news anchors praised his generosity toward the "underprivileged." His routine remained predictable, hopping from one country to another, engaging in business meetings with H.O.P.E founders and so-called 'volunteers.' These events ended with him calculating donations, quietly pocketing his portion. A practiced smile surfaced for the cameras during the distribution of goods to the less fortunate, their images plastered across television screens. It was a repetitive spectacle, enough to trigger nausea.

Oddly, Jared found pleasure in my father's absence, effortlessly blending into the bustling surroundings. His company proved both irritating and surprisingly welcome.

Over the month, Jared's visits served as a soothing diversion. Though I wouldn't openly admit it, I took comfort in his audacious nighttime arrivals. In a rational state, I might have been concerned, but Jared's sway clouded my judgment, making everything seem fitting and unexpectedly pleasant.

Each night, Jared's visits drew us closer. On my bed, I shared my thoughts, fears, and hopes, with Jared attentively listening.

His gentle fingers in my hair often lulled me to sleep during our talks.

Passionate nights brought desire to the forefront. Trusting Jared's lead, I released inhibitions, savoring the reassurance that overthinking couldn't offer.

Yet, despite my longing for the affair to continue, unease lingered. Jared slipping into my room, especially without my parents, particularly my father, knowing, felt discomforting.

In the past month, I noticed Jared's new hairstyle: shaved sides with longer hair on top, occasionally tied into a cute tiny ponytail.

One Monday afternoon, back from school, homework proved challenging as Jared explored my room. Initially, he pouted after I declined his advances, opting to finish my essay. Soon, he found other distractions.

I observed him sneakily flipping a corner of my carpet, searching for who knew what. Moving to my desk, he discovered my laptop, exclaiming, "Aha!" with childlike excitement as he settled on the carpeted floor near my bed.

Despite my efforts to concentrate on homework, his presence proved too distracting. I succumbed, closed my notebook, and leaned in to see what had caught his attention.

He began exploring my song folders, testing each one. A piano intro started, but he pressed next, only to encounter another piano intro. An exasperated grunt escaped him as he pressed next again, facing a classical cello piece.

"What kind of stuff is this? A classical music convention?" he grumbled, clearly frustrated, and continued searching for music more to his liking.

A groan filled the room when he stumbled upon yet another batch of classical songs.

I chuckled and rose to find a solution for Jared. Rummaging through my nightstand, I unearthed my CD player with stacks of discs, gifts from Grams underneath. Handing them to Jared, I suggested he might find something he enjoyed—Beethoven, Mozart, and more.

The expression on his face was priceless; I regretted not having my phone to capture it.

"Were you transported from the Renaissance era or something? What's with all this stuff?" he grumbled, flipping through discs. Eventually, he gave up, deeming it a "waste of time." I couldn't help but laugh at his frustration.What was wrong with having discs featuring old-era artists? Modern music wouldn't cease to exist without these masterpieces.