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Extremely slow burn. Unfortunately, if you are looking for anything other than exposition in this chapter, you will be disappointed.
On Saturday I slept in. My daughter Alyssa had gotten back from her obnoxious boyfriend late last night, and I had stayed up waiting for her. I had told her she needed to be up early to get started on chores, but as soon as I climbed into bed with the clock reading past five in the morning, I knew there was no chance of that. I disabled my alarm and didn’t wake until a little before eleven. I was groggy and hungry, but without a hangover.
On my way down I stopped outside my daughter’s door, listening to her snore. The events of last night tore through my head like a rampaging bull. Fuck. I had essentially choked Ally as she masturbated. How was I supposed to talk to her normally after that? My daughter had been drunk and vulnerable and I had taken advantage of her.
I made my way to the kitchen and started on a pack of bacon. I chopped some veggies for my standard egg wrap, deep in thought. I couldn’t be too hard on myself. Yes, I had taken advantage of my drunk daughter, but she had been the aggressor. In fact, she had made it abundantly clear last night that she wanted sex. She had done everything except take off her clothes. If I hadn’t been physically stronger than her, I don’t know what would have happened. She had placed her body within my hands (quite literally) and I had done my best to resist. My best simply hadn’t been good enough. But that didn’t mean I was a degenerate.
My girl was gorgeous, and any other man would have crumbled with the way she threw herself at me. Hell most women would have had a hard time saying no. Non binary people were a thing too, I reminded myself – Alyssa had been getting on my case about that ever since she started university. I mentally revised my statement; any person attracted to women would have given in to my beautiful daughter. Any person attracted to female presenting people. Jesus. I shook my head. Whatever, my daughter was hot and knew how to work it. Period.
I flipped the bacon and beat a few eggs with a fork. Where did I go from here? I had messed up. We had messed up. Could I just ignore it? She had been pretty drunk, would she even remember? No, it’s possible she was blackout drunk when she stepped out of Sean’s car but after drinking water and talking to me she had seemed perfectly coherent. That was good. I would apologize for touching her, and she would apologize for being drunk and coming on to me. Everything would be fine.
I put the bacon on a plate of paper towels and started the veggies in the grease. I crunched on a crispy piece. Delicious. I went and got the coffee pot started.
Everything was not going to be fine. Maybe if it was just while she was drunk it would, but Alyssa had flirted with me even before she went on her date. It was a serious crack in our relationship; as serious as all the lies she had been telling me the past year. Maybe it was her way of expressing guilt, but it wasn’t healthy.
I needed to talk about this with someone. Definitely not my current girlfriend Selena. I had no idea how to bring it up to Becky. I had to make my own therapist appointment. Maybe I could time it to coincide with the appointment I had gotten Alyssa with her old therapist on Monday. That would be a laugh. Two peas in a pod, dad and daughter both fucked in the head.
I was pouring the eggs in just as Alyssa entered the kitchen, dressed in an oversized flannel and not much else. I had never particularly minded her skimpy morning wear in the past, so I had no reason to chastise her for it. Still, my eyes lingered on her legs, looking longer than they had any right to be on someone barely over 5 feet tall.
I studiously focused on the omelette frying in my pan.
“Morning. Smells good.”
She sat at the table and started playing with her phone. Her face was hidden behind a curtain of dark hair.
I placed the plate of bacon in front of her.
“Set the table and help yourself.”
Alyssa flipped her hair back and we made eye contact. An electric thrill ran through me and I turned back to my pan, trying to ignore my pounding heart. Stop it. Don’t make things weird.
She moved around the kitchen, putting silverware and juice on the table. I successfully flipped the omelette and sprinkled on the cheese. Alyssa got the tortillas out and I served us both. I drowned my burrito in hotsauce and ketchup, and demolished it. She ate more slowly and I sipped my coffee as I tried to figure out where to start.
She looked at me apprehensively. Her tongue flicked out to recover a crumb of bacon in the corner of her lips and I struggled to keep my eyes on hers. God damn. Was that the hint of a smirk? I knew she was flirtatious by nature, and always had been, but now I was second guessing every move she made. It was probably completely innocent. Maybe.
“Alyssa, Escort last night was…” I martialled my thoughts. “You do remember what happened last night right?”
She hesitated and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she contemplated lying and claiming she remembered nothing. I held my hand up before she could dig her own grave.
“Last night you were drunk and we both did some things we shouldn’t have. I’m sorry for crossing some boundaries with you, and I’m sure it would never have happened if we were both completely sober. Regardless, I’m going to set up a group therapy session for us to work through some things. I’ve got a schedule for this weekend on the fridge. We’re starting a bit late but I expect you to follow the times posted. Just add three hours. You can start by news-papering the floors, make sure it’s taped down and flush to the wall. You’re painting all the molding in the house first.”
“I’m sorry dad. I know I messed up.”
“Look, we both did and said some things that we regret-“
“No, dad.” She interrupted me.
“I meant I’m sorry about getting home late. When I promised you earlier I would be back by twelve I really meant it. So I’m really sorry about that.” She paused, and bit her lip. I just looked at her. The apology was gratifying; I had been extremely pissed and worried when she didn’t show up on time considering how much trouble she was already in. I opened my mouth to respond but she continued in a rush of words.
“But I don’t regret anything I said.” She held my gaze with her chin lifted in challenge. I watched as color crept up her face but she didn’t look away.
“Or the rest.”
What the hell was there to say to that?
“Alyssa, I understand that you’re a bit mixed up right now, and especially this thing with Sean… I get that. I do. Or maybe I don’t fully. But I empathize. And you’re going to find someone better than him. Someone who can be what you need but who actually cares for you.”
I trailed off, somewhat at a loss. Alyssa got up and started clearing the condiments and juice off the table.
“Did you break it off with him yet?”
She leaned in front of me and the flannel rode up her back, exposing her thighs and the bottoms of her cheeks. She was still wearing the tiny thong she had on last night. I had taken Alyssa for years to gymnastics and soccer events and it showed. Her thighs were thick and muscular. I knew she had problems in the past with them rubbing together when she ran and had to buy anti-chafing cream. That didn’t stop her from having that magical gap where her hips flared out. I stared through it to the table in front of her, absolutely transfixed. Jesus.
She held the pose for a second longer than strictly necessary as she stacked our plates before taking them to the sink. I sat there, doing my best impression of a marble statue as she started washing the pan. My dick, clearly feeling left out, proved it could pretend to be solid stone too.
Fuck! Well that was about as blatant a come-on as possible. Alyssa didn’t regret masturbating in front of me last night. Or any of the touching. All of it really. She obviously had no shame about rubbing it in my face.
Guess I have another thing to talk about in therapy. Jesus. This was ludicrous. I couldn’t even stand up now.
“Not yet, but I will as soon as I finish cleaning up.”
I hummed noncommittally. I did my best to tuck my straining cock into the waistband of my sweats before getting the hell out of the kitchen. I needed to get out of the house. I quickly changed into workout gear and grabbed the shopping list I had made. A long gym session while Ally got started painting would be perfect.
I went downstairs and got on the computer. I locked access to the wifi; she didn’t need the temptation. Back in the kitchen she had finished the dishes and was typing away on her phone. She offered it to me wordlessly when she was done. I took a look at the text message.
‘Sean it was fun while it lasted. My dad is mad I was paying ur rent. When I think about it Im mad too. I failed out of school. That was my own fault but i think we both know i wouldnt have let it get that bad if we werent together. Basically it was guarunteed to end this way. I don’t want to see you anymore and not just cause my dad won’t let me. You should have expected that when you were so rude even though you knew I was staying with him. Im blocking u. Goodbye.’
I scrolled up a little out of curiosity and was met with a mouth watering picture of Ally in her ridiculous platform shoes and high socks from last night. It was captioned ‘Does Sir approve?’ and followed by a response of a bunch of emojis.
The last message sent read: ‘Slut, I’m here. Get ur sexy ass out right now and maybe I won’t make u blow me in ur dads driveway’
I felt a spike of lust and anger in equal measure as I handed the phone back. I nodded. Alyssa hit the send button and blocked his number Escort Bayan under my watchful eye. She looked up at me.
“Did I do good?”
“It was fine.” My voice was curt. I turned away and hitched my gym bag over my shoulder.
“But did I do good?” I turned back and narrowed my eyes at her. She was definitely fishing for something.
“Do I disgust you, dad?”
I couldn’t let that stand, no matter my anger.
“Of course not. I’m your father. I will always love you. Even when I’m mad at you.”
“So you’re mad at me.”
I exploded at that. “Of course I’m mad at you! You can’t just flirt with me and expect me not to be mad anymore. It’s going to take you months of hard work to make up for it all, and who knows how long for me to trust you again. What do you want me to say right now, Alyssa?”
She physically wilted. Her hand, nervously twirling the ends of her hair fell still. “I dunno, nothing I guess. It’s fine.” She turned away and my hand shot out to her shoulder, stopping her.
“Alyssa, you know I love you. Yes I’m mad. No you don’t disgust me. I don’t know what else there is to say.”
Her head was down, her voice thick. “I dunno, it’s just, like. I was with him for over a year, dad. It wasn’t casual like most relationships I’ve been in. It was like the opposite of casual. That was really hard. I did what you asked.”
“I hope you did it because you knew it was the right thing for you and not just because I asked.”
She nodded. I tilted her head up to look at me. Her eyes were shining with unspent tears. I pulled her into me and kissed the top of her head.
“It takes a lot of bravery to break up with someone. Especially when your feelings are still strong. I know that must have been hard.”
She clung to me like a barnacle and sniffled. “So I did good?”
I rolled my eyes above her head but gave in to the inevitable. Not like I wanted her to go running back to that prick because she felt ashamed or underappreciated.
“Yes you did good. I’m proud of you, mamita.” At my words, she melted even more into me, and I felt myself stir in my gym shorts. I gently took her shoulders and stepped back.
“I’m going to the gym. Let me get you started with the paint.”
She stepped forward and nuzzled my chest, wiping her snot on my shirt.
“Yuck! Gross! Did I just say you didn’t disgust me? I take it all back.”
My daughter giggled at me and followed behind like a puppy as I showed her how I wanted the paint done and made sure she had everything she needed. She saw me off with a kiss on my stubbled cheek and my heart was light as I drove off. I was five minutes on the road before I looked at my grinning face in the mirror and reality came crashing back.
Did I just get played? How much of that was Alyssa being heartbroken, and how much was it her manipulating me? She’d always been good at getting what she wanted but the last two days had been something else. I felt like she was using tricks on me that she had honed on various boyfriends. Worse, it was working. That whole interaction had ended with me catering to her every need. I had given her comfort and reassurance and she had reveled in it. Of course that made me feel good. Was that wrong?
I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was so disturbing about it. Maybe it was how impossible she made it to stay mad at. Or maybe it was that every time I tried to set boundaries with her it ended with me giving her some form of physical affection. Except that was entirely my own fault. Ugh.
My gym session was brutal and exactly what I needed. I showered there and swung by Home Depot for some supplies. When I got back Alyssa was hard at work and I looked over what she had done. She had made herself a sandwich and left one for me as well. I gave her the appropriate amount of encouragement and did some work on the computer. The more of my projects I could get done, the more my bosses would look the other way when I left early throughout the week.
I was tired and made sloppy-Joes with frozen vegetables for dinner. Alyssa painted well into the evening to make up for her late start and missed curfew. I told her to stop around 9. I passed out not long after.
Sunday was thankfully uneventful. Alyssa dutifully followed the schedule I laid out. I kept expecting her to push things or take the opportunity painting provided to flaunt herself in front of me in long outgrown clothes. She instead wore properly beat up sweat pants and an oversized hoodie with full coverage. I was grateful and at the same time, undeniably disappointed. Which was stupid. But the male brain is terminally dumb when it came to female bodies.
Becky came over for dinner and all three of us made pizza together. Becky was Ally’s Aunt, the older sister of Erin O’Conner; my sweetheart who I had gotten pregnant straight out of highschool. We had Bayan Escort all been in the same Catholic church which was part of why I had pressured Erin to keep the baby. In retrospect, it was pretty shitty of me, and Erin walking out on us was almost inevitable. She hadn’t been ready.
I still think about it often. I can’t help but wonder what might of been if I had gotten plan b or let Erin get the abortion she wanted. If we could have stayed together and been a proper family a few years later. But I could never really bring myself to regret it. Alyssa had quickly become the light of my life and I wouldn’t change that for anything. Erin had gone on to design school, and never looked back. She had died tragically from some bad Molly when Ally was 7. Ally barely remembered her.
Her death made me feel guilty as hell, but my grief was muted. Oddly, it helped me realize I was fully over her. My grief was not for someone I loved, but for what might have been. It gave me closure, and I pray that she’s in a better place now.
Becky didn’t look too much like her younger sister. She was tall with a curly red mane and freckles. She had a lean build, and the most joyful laugh I have ever heard. She had the kind of laugh that could be picked out of a crowded theater, and never failed to make everyone around her lose it. I can’t count how many times I had no idea what the joke had been and still cracked up when Becky started snorting across the room.
Today, Alyssa had started out subdued, but in no time Becky had her chattering away. I rolled out the crust and did my best to follow along. Dinner was great, and I was content as the three of us watched a rom-com afterwards. Alyssa would be okay. Her depression wouldn’t last. This sexual tension would fade once she found a new boyfriend.
Becky left us in high spirits and I sat down with Alyssa to go over her schedule for tomorrow. She had plenty of painting to do and therapy later that I would take her for. Her job started on Tuesday.
Monday evening found me waiting for Alyssa to finish her therapy appointment. I’d asked Dr. Ecklen to speak with me shortly afterwards and was pretty nervous about it. The door opened, and Alyssa stepped out into the waiting room. She looked at me with an expression I couldn’t place. I could tell she had been crying. Dr. Ecklen stood in the door and beckoned me in.
I squeezed Ally’s shoulder as I passed her by and took a seat in Dr. Ecklens office. She closed the door and looked at me sympathetically.
“How are you holding up, Mr. Rodriguez?”
I snorted. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Alyssa has changed. I thought I knew what I was doing and how to get her back on track. But it’s more than just depression and failing school. She’s… I don’t know. Did she tell you what happened Friday night?”
Her face smoothed itself into neutrality. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
I huffed. I did know. Dr. Ecklen took client confidentiality very seriously. Which I respected, but it was incredibly frustrating as a worried father. The grief counselor we had seen after Erin died had been very open about what Alyssa had been going through in her private sessions. It really helped me understand how best to approach her.
When Alyssa became an impossible pre-teen, I chose Dr. Ecklen, who specialized in adolescents and rebellious behavior, to help her. I was quickly informed that in order to build trust, Alyssa had to know that everything she said in session would be kept private. While I understood, my heart told me that a parents concern should trump their child’s desire for secrecy.
“As usual I only have a few minutes, but I really recommend a joint session with the both of you. There are a lot of unresolved issues, and I believe it would help to clear the air in a safe space. Unfortunately, Ally doesn’t feel ready to do that, but I may be able to change her mind next session. She does understand it would be helpful, so she just needs to find her courage.”
“What can you tell me? I could really use some advice. I just don’t understand where I went so wrong.”
She sighed. “Mr. Rodriguez, I have always respected your parenting skills. As far as I am aware you have always had Ally’s best interest at heart. And she knows that. Please don’t think of this as you having messed up her development, and please don’t think of Ally herself as being wrong in some way. She’s young and will adjust. We all make mistakes growing up. And lapses in judgement certainly don’t stop occurring when we’re adults.”
She gave me a gimlet eye and I knew with a sinking feeling she was referring to my rather epic lapse of judgement Friday night. Her praise was reassuring, but I felt like a worm sitting in her office. What kind of father helps his daughter (no matter how indirectly) to masturbate?
“I’ve spoken to Ally’s school counselor. She has certainly done a lot of self discovery in the last few years. Which is part of the point of going away to college, and becoming an adult. Some of what she’s learned about herself may make you uncomfortable. That’s normal. It doesn’t mean your relationship with your daughter has to change.
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