Believing My Luck, Good And Bad

***Hi all! Three things: 1) this and the coming post are written from Daniel’s POV. I wanted to change it up a bit and I hope you like it; 2) as some of you may already see, there is a new page called “character list”, please let me know if I need more characters or need to edit a character description; and 3) I kind of want to do a BONUS post but I’m not sure yet. So there may be one up soon or there may not be one, don’t know yet. There will be one for SamsonandDelilah coming up though. Enjoy! Soul xo***

(Daniel’s POV)

There’s no preparing you for when you know someone who you absolutely detest and are programmed to love all at the same time. I have conflicting feelings about my father, mixed in a way in which I hope Anna never has to experience with her parents, and I fear she would when her parents go through with their divorce. I mean, can’t I count on one of our parents to go through their whole lives happy, healthy and together? It’s safe to say that her parents and her relationship with them is more stable than mine.

My mother sacrificed everything for her husband, and in turn, my father grew more selfish, controlling and stubborn. Rose coloured glasses? He saw life through gold rimmed and diamond framed transparency. And not the good kind either. If it wasn’t about him, didn’t concern him, or didn’t involve him, he didn’t care what you had to say.

My father and I tore apart pretty much when I began favouring my mother over him. I saw a soft pillow where my mother perched, and a nail bed where my father sat; I saw sunny skies and red-petal-winged butterflies with my mother, and poisonous creepy crawlies over sharp pointed rock with my father; I saw I wanted to be more like my mother—caring, kind, respectful and strong in many ways—in the way she treated other people, than a cold empty shell of my father who barely knew the concept of people outside of himself. I wanted to be better than my father, especially to women. Suffice to say, I guess I didn’t stick to that code of arms for long.

When Tanya came along, for once in my life, I thought I had the perfect opportunity to showcase what I’ve learned from my mother. She was my very first love, likeness and lay; and all were without effort. Except the last part, the sex part. She did play hard to get, although not too hard as I look back. Maybe the right words are, she played deceptively hard. And I played with fire, got burned, and found exceptional open-wound-healing and satisfaction in casual sexual encounters. I wouldn’t say I was a dud before Tanya, but after being rid of her, it was the best time I had in my life; I didn’t even realise the pressuring subtext of my father always at my side, breathing down my neck about how Tanya was the fruitful choice. I moved to California, attended UCLA, and for once in my life, found my feet.

I shuttled back and forth between meaningless but amazing sexscapades; professors loved me and even when they didn’t I didn’t have to work that hard to pass every subject with flying colours. I have to say that I was so cocky that I was confident I cracked the code on women; found out all their little secrets and how they functioned. Man, was I wrong. And no one could have proved me more wrong than Anna. A beautiful, green-eyed, raven-haired, lithe in appearance and clumsy in action, of a girl; intelligent, genuine, caring, and loving in all the right ways, that although at times could try to understand that she didn’t need everyone to love her back as much as she loved them, accepted my faults regardless of her own.

I couldn’t stay away from Anna. I didn’t even care how doe-eyed I’d become when I’d fallen in love with her. Stanley noticed a change in me the most; by all it counts, all the good things that came after meeting Anna were because of her. Ultimately, she gave me a chance, a chance that perhaps I didn’t think I deserved and didn’t dare confess my little scattered spouts of self-pity. Ultimately, she was there for me whenever I needed her. The world? No. She was worth more than the world to me. More than the sun, the moon and the universe. I don’t care how pathetic I sound right now—if I do sound pathetic—because I fucking love Anna. So much. And I can’t believe my luck that she loves me back.

I always reminisce about our past, and look forward to our future together, but the one thing I wasn’t looking forward to was having a chat at dinner with my father.

“He wants to see me too?” Anna asked, perplexed. The knife still in her hand mid-cut through a celery stick.

“Can you believe it? After all he’s done,” I shook my head in disbelief. “There’s no way you two are setting foot in the same room.” If I had to cut his off. Better not say that out loud.

“Well why would he want to see me?”

I shrugged. “Probably to ruin my life even more. It’s perfectly reasonable, he sees how happy I am, somehow gets word of it—I don’t know, through a Pidgeon maybe—and then just swoops in and shits on everything I care about it.”

“That is one vivid reason. Wait,” she tilted her head and blinked a couple times, “’even more’?”

“No, no—not what I mean. I mean, to the extent that he thinks it is ruined. I mean, I’ve lost my mother, my career dreams, robbed of an actual noble father-figure; what more could he break from me?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He has no control over you anymore. You do not answer to him, and he has no rights over you.”

I had to remind myself of that every day. I know it seems easy to remember, that my father should be cast aside as a nobody in my life, but that’s where the conflicting feelings come into play. By the laws of nature, Richard should be the type of person I turn to at times, for advice, for a drinking buddy, for anything. Okay, maybe not the drinking buddy, but you know what I mean. If there’s one thing I understood from anything of a biological factor, it’s that a mother and a father are Gods and Goddesses in the eyes of their child. Richard, unfortunately, was Zeus, and I’m not talking about the Disney version (oh come on, everyone loves that movie!), I’m talking about the real hard-ass mythological Zeus with selfish and spoiled brat tendencies. Yup, that’s my dad folks!

Mid-way in my little daydream, I noticed Anna’s hands embracing me at the waist from behind me. I latched onto her as she pulled me in close.

“Hey,” she started, “I wanted to say something and it’s been making me feel a bit guilty and I feel like I should, you know, say something.”

She spoke so awkwardly I just had to turn around. Even before then I felt her face build red-hot against my back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and picked at her fingernails, “just that I’m sorry.”

“For what, babe?” I shrugged.

She smiled sheepishly and turned redder. “That we haven’t been having that much sex. Barely actually. I know you must think I’m torturing you or something.”

I chuckled lightly. “Of course not. And don’t worry about me. I know you’re in a bit of a funk right now, but I’m sure it’ll come and go.”

I was bursting! To say the least. But I never wanted to tell her. I know this whole divorce of her parents is putting her in a negative mindset, that she was psyching herself out, that she couldn’t think about anything else but her parents inexplicably separating and me as her support, so I knew I had to stand clear and eventually, this too shall pass.

“Well, I was thinking that maybe—” her voice peaking “—after you come back from this dinner, we can…”

I lifted a brow. “Really?”

She nudged me back and forth at the waist. “I just want to dive right into it.” She started laughing and turning red again. “I don’t mean to make it sound like Olympic sports but, you know, I just want you. I miss you—” moving her hand down and squeezing “—all of you.”

I closed my eyes and twitched. Leaning down, pressing my lips against hers, I felt her become hungrier. She pulling at me with her hand on the back of my neck; her tongue thrashing against mine; and her chest jutting out, making me feel her ample breasts.

“God dammit,” I breathed as she ran a trail down my neck, “how about I just skip this dinner, huh?”

She giggled on my neck and I felt fiery tingles blasting me. Now this was torturous!

“Go on, or you’ll be late.”

I laughed as she started pushing me out. Grabbing my keys as I wrapped myself in a jacket, covering up my suit. My father just had to set us up in an expensive restaurant where patrons were obligated to where ‘upscale’ on their sleeves. I couldn’t be bothered, when all I wanted to do was put on a pair of sweats; or nothing, for that matter. Totally naked with my girl would be ideal. But it was going to be short, and I was hell-bent on making it painless, that I psyched myself up for the dinner.

“Oh, by the way,” I stopped at the doorway and kissed Anna on her nose, “I like Paul.”


One thought on “Believing My Luck, Good And Bad

  1. I don’t know if I want to know what Richard has to say.
    I liked this from Daniel ‘s pov. Will like to read about his meeting w Richard from his Pov as well.

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