Sissy Boy

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Please let me know if you spot any errors...spelling, grammar or punctuation....have a nice read

A year later...

"Over my dead body are you marrying that woman" I snapped, my hands slightly forming fists at my sides.

"Ryder we  talked about this" he said, his eyes flaring with rage.

"I don't remember a mutual agreement" I scoffed, leaning back, relaxing against the chair.

"Ryder, it's been six months since she's been wearing that engagement ring, I specifically told you first before I proposed" I rolled my eyes at him.

"Now you're acting like every thing I've said up until this point about the matter is shit" he said and I quickly stated.

"That's because it is shit, you were married already and -" he raised his voice at me in reply.

"And nothing, I've had my fair share of depression, I'm tired Ryder" my face remained blank.

"Tired of having to wake up in the morning to her smiling picture, tired of waking up to find the left side of the bed empty, left side of the wardrobe empty, I can't stand it anymore!" He hands banged down on the table.

"Arrangements have already been made" I quirked a brow coyly, a playful but dry chuckle escaping my lips.

"I'm serious Ryder" he said lowly, almost sounding quite intimidated by me.

"No you're not!" I spat at him, my tone oozing with venom as my body pulsated.

"Ryder stop fucking shouting!" He snapped at me with a similar tone and I chuckled dryly. Like father like son, I thought.

I didn't have another word to say to this man. I roughly got up from the kitchen Island, cringing at the screeching sound the legs of the chair made with the ground as they scrapped sharply against each other. I then viciously grabbed my book bag before leaving out the front door, aggressively banging it on my way out.

I grumbled and stomped angrily towards my car which was lazily parked in our drive way. As soon as I was in the vehicle, I chucked my bag to the passenger's seat and sighed before speeding away.

It has been one year, one freaking year since I found out he'd been seeing another woman. Exactly three weeks after my mom's death, my father's liquor cabinet could no longer contain the number of bottles he would constantly chug night after night before passing out across the kitchen floor.

With every passing day, his habits seemed almost impossible to control. He had later started going out to drink, sleeping with as many women as he could, most probably hoping to further drown his sorrows in between their legs.

My father, even in his late thirties never looked a day over twenty two. He had a mature but boyish face and a muscular build that contrasted. He was a handsome man, there was no doubt, so getting atleast one good fuck a night wasn't hard.

He spent his days with raging hangovers and nights out in random Bars while I wallowed in silence with a glass of alcoholic wine in my hand.

A couple of months passed and I received news that my dad had been arrested for drinking and driving. I wasn't even surprised.

  I was very hesitant on going to see him but as soon as I did, I found out that he had been moved to a rehab centre.

   Although I was happy at the fact that he was improving greatly, it angered me so much that he was easily getting his sanity back while I only broke down day after day. Yes, I wanted him to move on, move on from his drinking and promiscuity, not move on from my mom entirely.