CHAPTER 66: PRETTY BROKEN FAMILY

Chapter Sixty Six

**OLIVER WEST **

What did he want from us now?

Pumpkin’s expression paled like someone had flipped a switch, and she took several quick steps backwards until she was pressed against Mom’s side, her hands clutching at Mom’s apron like she used to do when she was five and afraid of thunderstorms.

"Hey there, kiddo," Dad greeted. Maybe it was just me, but I thought his voice carried a fake cheerfulness that made my skin crawl.

It reminded me of the same tone he’d used when he promised to take us to the park and never showed up.

Pumpkin didn’t respond when he waved at her, she just stared up at Mom with wide, anxious eyes, as though she was silently begging for protection.

This was something I hated, the way she shrank into herself was totally unlike her.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides as Dad stepped further inside without being invited, his expensive shoes crossing our threshold like he still belonged here.

His smile didn’t flinch, like he hadn’t shattered our family and walked away without a backwards glance.

The sight of him in our living room felt wrong. This was our space now - Mom’s, mine, and Pumpkin’s. We’d built something here after he left, something fragile but real. And now, I felt as though he was contaminating it just by breathing our air.

"Well, aren’t you all very welcoming?" He said with that bitter laugh that used to make my stomach twist when I was younger.

"What do you want, David?" Mom seemed to finally regain her composure but I could see the way her shoulders were still rigid, the way she was positioning herself protectively in front of Pumpkin.

I stepped forward just as Dad looked around our living room with that same critical expression I remembered, like he was cataloguing everything we’d done wrong in his absence. "What do I want? Can’t a man visit his own family?"

His words spiked up the resentment I felt, "Well, no one wants you here, we are not some possessions you left in your storage!" I spat the words right at him.

"Yeah, go away!" Pumpkin spoke from behind Mom. I’d never seen her being resentful, until now. But this was something I didn’t even want her to experience because an instinct told me that things might get uglier..

Dad’s eyes flared with surprise as though our outburst had surprised him, and his attention snapped to Mom once more.

"You’ve been filling their heads with poison about me, haven’t you?" He nodded toward where Pumpkin was still behind her.

"That’s why my own daughter won’t even say hello. And she even wants me to leave,"

The accusation made rage flare hot in my chest.

The audacity!

Poison?

Mom had never said a bad word about him, even when Pumpkin cried herself to sleep asking when Daddy was coming home.

"No one cares what you think, don’t pretend like you are innocent, we don’t want you and you know why,"

Dad’s attention snapped to me, and I saw his eyes narrow with that familiar disapproval.

The look that had always made me feel like I was fundamentally wrong, like something inside me was broken beyond repair.

"There’s the disrespectful little brat I remember. You didn’t even have the decency to say hello when you saw me yesterday."

Yesterday.

At the mall.

When he’d been with that woman... Well, even if he hadn’t been with her, my reaction would still be the same.

"Why would I? You’re nothing to me." I sounded cold even to my ears but the words had come out before I could stop them, not that I planned on taking them back.

"Oliver," Mom warned softly, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when he was standing in our house acting like the victim.

"You left us. You walked out because you couldn’t handle a good woman, so don’t stand there acting like we owe you anything."

I watched his face darken with that old familiar rage, building behind his eyes, but for some reason, I wasn’t scared. I was no longer that little boy who sought his approval.

He took a step towards me and I stood my ground.

"I left because your mother and I weren’t quite suited. Look at you, you’re even worse than before. What kind of son brings shame to his family by acting like a little fairy—"

The slap echoed through the house like a gunshot halting Dad’s cruel statement.

My ears rang in the sudden silence. Mom’s hand was still raised, her chest heaving with anger I’d never seen from her before.

She’d hit him.

Mom had slapped him across the face.

"Get out of my house. Right now!"

Dad touched his cheek, looking shocked, but I was more concerned about Pumpkin’s horrified expression, her body was trembling.

"Get out," Mom said again, her voice deadly quiet. " Or I’m calling the police."

"Fine," Dad said, already heading toward the door like the coward he was when he left us the first time. He cast one last glare at Mom and me.

"At least, my new woman has two normal sons. Real boys who play sports and respect their father. I’m embarrassed to call you my son."

Three years ago, those words would have hurt me. But now, looking at this bitter man I felt something unexpected.

Pity.

If his life was so perfect, I doubted that he would remember his way back here.

"Good, because I stopped calling you my father a long time ago."

The door slammed behind him with a finality that echoed in the air, and then the house fell into terrible silence, broken only by the sound of Mom’s sharp inhale.

She sank into a chair, her hands shaking as she covered her face. The strong woman who’d slapped him was gone, replaced by someone who looked fragile and breakable.

I wanted to go to her, to tell her everything would be okay, but my legs felt like lead.

The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a hollow ache in my chest.

After what felt like hours but was probably only seconds, I forced myself to move. "I’m going to check on Pumpkin."

She had run upstairs immediately after Dad had left.

Mom nodded without looking up, and I could see her shoulders shaking with silent tears she didn’t want me to see.

Our Sunday morning was completely ruined.

I climbed the stairs until I reached my sister’s door.

"Pumpkin? Can I come in?"

There was no answer, but I could hear muffled crying from inside.

I pushed the door open and found her curled up on her bed, her face buried in her stuffed elephant.

Her whole body was shaking with sobs that seemed too big for someone so small.

The sight of her like this broke something inside me that I didn’t know was still whole.

"Hey," I said softly, the mattress dipped under my weight as I sat down and she looked up at me with red, swollen eyes that looked far too old for her twelve-year-old face.

"It’s okay. He’s gone."

"Is he going to come back?" The question came out small and broken, and I realized she was asking the same thing I’d asked Mom when Dad first left us.

The truth was, I didn’t know.

To me, we were better off without him, but looking at my baby sister’s tear-streaked face, I knew I had to be sensitive..

The last thing I wanted was for her to be consumed with the same hate I’d held towards our Dad.

She deserved to live carefree and happy, not worried about a person who wasn’t worth our time, our tears... our fears.

"I don’t know," I said honestly, because in the end, lies wouldn’t help either of us. "But if he does, I won’t let him hurt you or Mom. I promise."

She sat up and threw her arms around me with a sudden force that almost knocked the breath out of me.

"I was scared," she whispered against my shoulder, and I could feel her whole body trembling.

"I know. Me too." The admission felt like breathing after holding my breath for years.

We sat like that for a long time, just holding each other while the afternoon light faded outside her window.

I realized this was the first time in years that we’d hugged without one of us making a sarcastic comment or trying to get away first.

For the first time since Dad walked through our door, I felt like I could breathe properly.

"Oliver?" Her voice was small and muffled against my shirt.

"Yeah?"

"Are you really going to marry Kieran?"

Despite everything - the confrontation, the tears, the way my heart was still racing - I almost smiled.

Leave it to Pumpkin to think about my love life in the middle of a family crisis.

"Why are you thinking about that right now?"

"Because if you do, and you have kids, you’ll be a better dad than him, right?"

The question hit me like a punch to the chest, stealing what little breath I’d managed to recover. She was asking me to promise something I’d never even thought about, but looking at her hopeful, tear-stained face, I knew there was only one answer.

"Yeah, Pumpkin. I’ll be better than him if I ever have kids in the future."

She pulled back to look at me, searching my face for any sign that I was lying. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her because she nodded and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

That’s when I noticed the wet spot on my shirt.

"Gross!" I said, making an exaggerated disgusted face. "Did you just use me as a tissue?"

She giggled through her tears - a watery sound, but it was real and it made my heart lighter

"Maybe."

My scowl deepened and she cackled louder. Good, my little demon was back.

"It’s good for your skin, natural moisturizer, isn’t it?"

"That’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said. And coming from you, that’s saying something."

She only laughed harder despite my complaints, and the sound was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

Maybe we were going to be okay after all.