More than Enough (Book Two in the Enough Series)

21

"Happy to see me?" He smirked with a laugh.

"I'm just, surprised. Were you discharged?" I asked nervously, leaning on the door frame.

"No. I felt like I'd done enough, I wanted to come home. To my home."

"So, you're feeling good?" My voice was weak, and I did my best to hide the nervousness I felt.

"I'm fine. If you're fine, we'll continue to live our lives. I see no issue."

I swallowed hard, working to control my breathing. I hadn't interacted with a sober Father in a few years. I had no idea how this looked, how this would work. My therapist had talked to me about this potentially happening a few times but having him here in front of me was totally different.

"Ok... Sure. I actually have to leave for work in a few. Um... would you like me to make something to eat before I leave? The refrigerator is a little bare, I've been busy." I stuttered and stumbled over my words. "I could order something."

"I'm not an invalid, Gemma. I'll be fine. Have a good night." He turned without another word and walked away, leaving me feeling a plethora of emotions. Despite the uneasy feeling, I had to go to work, so that's exactly what I did.

Splash was insanely busy, and we were short-staffed. I felt as if I had been in a wet T-shirt all night. I was exhausted from all the running around and shouting. Not to mention the extra grabby customers. I'd gotten used to it at this point, but tonight it just felt like too much. I was already on edge when I headed home in the early hours of the morning.

Pulling up in front of the house, my stomach churned with a warning. I assumed it to be exhaustion or lack of a proper meal. Ready to get inside and get some sleep, I ignored it and rushed into the house. The second I stepped into the doorway, I smelled it. That smell I had worked so hard to clean out of the house while he was away. I sighed in defeat. I knew it would happen, perhaps I had a small amount of hope the sobriety would last longer but I knew, inevitably he'd end up back where we started.

I tried to quietly slip toward my room, hoping to avoid any confrontation already but I wasn't so lucky. My Father was seated at the bottom of the steps, holding the vodka bottle. His graying hair was pushed up all over his head, his shirt untucked and his eyes heavy. Who knows how long he'd been drinking, how much he'd consumed.

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is everything okay?" I tried to play it off, go back to how things were in the beginning. When he first started drinking and he wasn't so verbally abusive.

"You killed them and you're killing me. Once I'm gone, you'll have three deaths on you." He laughed, a crazy, maniacal laugh. I could feel my body shaking, out of fear and anxiety. I had no idea how to respond to him. I decided I would just walk away and as soon as I took a step toward the hall, he screamed out.

"DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWAY FROM ME!" I turned just in time to see the empty bottle flying toward me, jumping out of the way just in time. It crashed to the old wooden floor, shattering into a million pieces with drops of liquid mixed in. Before I could react, he lunged for me and I took off. Logically the front door was closer and I should've run out of it but right then, I wasn't thinking logically. I ran toward my room, nearly falling inside before slamming the door shut and locking it.

I went over to my bed and slid down next to it, holding my bag. I waited and listened as I could hear him stumbling down the hall to me. He banged on the door repeatedly, screaming a variety of swears and things I could barely understand. I had no idea what to do. He'd never had an episode like this before. He was usually too drunk, too far gone to even function at this level. Tonight though, he seemed to be the energizer bunny of alcoholics.

Just when I thought he may have finally worn himself out, the door burst open. The look on his face, when he made his way in, was terrifying and something I'll never forget. Inside I was jumping up and running away, out the front door and to the safety of my car but it was all mental. The reality was that I was frozen, from fear, exhaustion and quite possibly just finally giving up.

The man that had kissed my scraped knees, taught me to ride a bike, to fish, and to love sports. The man that I had seen love my Mother unconditionally, my sister and myself with everything he had, that man was gone. Long gone. This one, he was a monster who began attacking me with his fists. At some point I managed to get my phone and call 911. I didn't want to fight back and hurt him, at the same time I had to defend myself before he literally killed me. All the rage he had been holding since my Mother and Sisters death, he was releasing it on me.

Fortunately it didn't take long for officers to arrive. They quickly defused the situation, getting him off and away from me while a medic rushed in to check me over. I lost sight of what was going on with him while they took me to the back of an ambulance. I only had a few scratches, mostly just sore from the hits to my head. While the medics were going over a list of questions about the incident, an officer stood taking notes.

I declined to be transported to the hospital and spoke to the officers about what exactly had happened. They asked if there was anyone they could call for me and I immediately gave them Los' information. I owed him big time for dropping everything to come to me. My Father was arrested for assault charges and taken away in a patrol car as I waited for Los to arrive. When he did, all of the first responders left the scene, leaving me to head to Los' home with him.

By the time I finished giving Brynn all the gory details, I was a blubbering mess and she was wrapped around me like a koala. She was hugging me so tight I could barely breathe, but in the best way. I could feel all the love and support oozing out of her and it felt good. It felt good to let all of my truth out in the open like that.