I took a side peek at Mr. Clinton to see his reaction; our eyes locked for a brief second before we looked away. His face was emotionless, while his gaze returned to the screen.
“Wh.. what?” My father finally responded, his eyes narrowing in confusion after processing what I said. “You had your first kiss? Then how should that make him upset, or perhaps you’re trying to distract me from the main issue?”
Mr. Clinton and I exchanged glances, his jaw tensed but loosening up a bit. “It has nothing to do with her. Don’t mind her. She is just joking. There was bad news from the hospital this morning.”
My lips pursed, realizing the reason why his face was so grim this morning. But I still couldn’t believe that was the only reason. “Is it that bad?” My father asked, his eyes suddenly flashing with concern.
Mr. Clinton shrugged, leaning back on the sofa. “There’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Including me?” I raised one eyebrow at him, ambiguously hinting at our tussle yesterday.
He let out a sharp sigh, barely controlling the urge to snap at me.
Why am I being a pest all of a sudden? I chuckled, truly enjoying the look on his face. I was still upset about his rejection and hadn’t yet decided how to go about it.
My father chortled from the screen, amused by our subtle squabble. “I know she’s giving you a headache; you just don’t want to admit it.”
“How is work over there?” Mr. Clinton changed the subject. They both continued their friendly conversation, making me feel left out. After a few minutes, he finally asked about school, and I replied, of course skipping some details. I can’t deal with his loud scolding, especially when he hears I missed an important test. Thank God Mr. Clinton hadn’t told him yet.
“Take care of yourselves, both of you,” he said with a wide smile before the call ended.
Mr. Clinton closed the laptop, and the air around us turned thick with heavy tension. My carefree moment was replaced with a depressed unease. The tension around us was palpable; in a few seconds, we’d certainly get into another heated conversation.
My heart constricted, and my mind clouded with reminders of his unrequited love that made me feel heartbroken. His eyes locked on mine, his expression serious. “Sarah, about yesterday…”
“If it’s about me stealing a kiss and you scolding me for it, I don’t want to hear it.” I cut him off, suppressing the anger slowly growing within me.
“Don’t do that again,” he responded, averting his eyes. “I clearly told you to keep your feelings at bay…”
“I can’t,” I snapped, springing up from the sofa. “I can’t bury them while I keep staring at your face every day.”
I didn’t know where this boldness was coming from; I just couldn’t let him keep repeating the same words that broke my heart.
He exhaled exasperatedly, his jaw clenched as his gaze wandered over nothing in particular. “Don’t make this any harder,” he said, his voice barely audible.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me. He stood up to leave, but I grabbed his hand before he could take a step.
“Give me a chance, please,” I said, my voice both firm and pleading. He tilted his head to look at me, swiftly pulling my hands off him. His eyes locked on mine; they were cold but with a trim of gentleness he failed to conceal. “Sarah, this is insane.”
“I know!” I shot back with a sharp exhale. “And I don’t care how insane this is.”
“Sarah!” He groaned, aggravated, his jaw tensed up, gritting his teeth. His fierce stare sent shivers down my spine. “This isn’t love; it’s madness.”
I gasped silently, my lips trembling. His icy tone felt like tingles crawling all over my skin as I fumbled for the right words to refute him. “Love isn’t madness…”
With a frustrated blink, he looked away, placing his hands on his waist, contemplating how to make me change my mind. But I refuse to yield. Never! I had loved him since I was a teenager, and now that I have the chance to make my wet dreams a reality, I’ll strive to make sure nothing deters my triumph in love. Not even he can stop me. My face scrunched up in defiance, ready to give a piece of my mind.
“You’re rejecting me because you don’t want my juvenile love, as you call it, to ruin your friendship with my father. I get it. Or maybe you can’t bring yourself to forget the woman who dumped you and never came back despite you running after her asking for forgiveness…”
My chest heaved as I realized the words were out; now I couldn’t take them back. I bit my lips, berating myself for speaking without thinking while my heart raced in fearful, ferocious thuds.
His face darkened, seething with anger as he grabbed my arm, his fingers pressing against my soft flesh. “How dare you say that to me…” He paused, his intense gaze suddenly softened as he drifted into a sense of realization, as if my words were true. Yes, they were. But my last statement… I kind of made a rough assumption; perhaps it might be the truth.
He slowly released me from his tight grip. I could hear him sighing in defeat, his eyes flashing with hurt.
Oh no, what have I done? “Mr. Clinton, I’m sorry I said that… I…”
He raised his hand to silence me, stepping backwards. I moved closer but his stern gaze made me halt. “Sarah, let’s end this conversation.” His said, his voice barely audible. ”
I opened my mouth to speak but he silenced me again. My lips whispered an apology despite him not wanting to hear it. ‘
I’m sorry’.
He turned around, his footsteps echoing with resentment and it shattered me deeply.
I did terribly bad at controlling my emotions and now i would have to pay for it.
With a remorseful gaze, I watched him disappearing out of sight.