Oates, my friend from school, said adults lie more than children and as I glowered at my Dad, I believed him. He stood by the kitchen sink washing the same plate over and over again, his gaze distant and blank.
I sat at the table with my math homework open, undone. Mum's chair across mine was empty. She always helped with my homework.
“Dad, did she leave because of me?” I asked finally. He startled and his hands stopped moving for a long moment. “Dad?”
“No,” he answered quietly, still gazing outside. “It's not you.”
“Then why? Why isn't she back?”
He turned to look at me, dried his hands slowly and sat in Mum's chair. He looked older and his eyes were red and slightly swollen. “Sometimes people can love each other and still be unhappy.”
I frowned because he didn't make any sense. Love was supposed to make people happy and want to be together. Maybe this was another lie to get me to stop asking questions. He held my hands and gently squeezed. “Things are not what they seem, Fred,” he whispered.
“What do you mean? Did you hurt her?” I asked while pulling my hands out of his. I just wanted my mother back home. I wanted things to be normal again.
His face changed then. “Yes,” he whispered. “I thought providing for you both was enough but your mum felt alone for a very long time.”
I swallowed hard and gazed at my book. I couldn't bear to look at him because I didn't expect honesty. I'd have to tell Oates in school tomorrow that sometimes, adults tell the truth, like my dad now.
“She still loves you,” he added quickly, leaning forward to draw my gaze back to him. “Nothing changes that.”
I nodded and started to work on my maths. He placed his hand over mine and it trembled slightly.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "not what it seems".
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