I didn't think I'd ever see his face again.
But there he was.
Behind the thick glass window, in that soulless room with cold fluorescent lights and the scent of sterilized regret, sat the man who ruined my life.
My father.
"Naomi…" His voice cracked like dry paper.
I didn't flinch. I just sank into the plastic chair across from him, unbothered, chewing on my hamburger like he wasn't even real.
He looked older. Gaunt. A little grayer around the temples. Prison hadn't been kind to him. Good.
"I didn't expect you'd come," he said, his eyes searching mine.
I still didn't respond.
His gaze softened. "You've grown into a beautiful young woman. You look just like—"
"Don't you dare," I cut in, finally meeting his eyes with the full weight of my hatred. "Don't you dare say her name."
The silence that followed was heavy, nearly suffocating. A thousand unspoken words hanging in the air between us.
He smiled, like he didn't just open an old wound and pour salt in it. "How's school? Nana told me you graduated last month. Have you submitted any job applications yet?"
I let out a bitter laugh, the kind that turns heads—sharp and echoing through the room like broken glass.
"Now you care?" I leaned forward, sandwich forgotten, eyes narrowing. "Now you give a damn about what happens in my life? After all the shit you put us through?"
He lowered his gaze, and for a second, I thought I saw guilt flicker across his face. But it was too late for guilt.
"You destroyed me," I said softly.
Silence.
"You destroyed everything."
He looked up at me, his eyes glossed with unshed tears. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
But then I remembered every night I watched Mom cry herself to sleep. Every time I had to lie at school about why my dad wasn't around. Every job Nana worked just to keep food on our table. The whispers. The pitying glances.
"I hate you. I don't want anything to do with you. Get that into your thick skull," I spat.
He tried to reach for the bag of food between us, but I shoved it toward him with a disgusted snarl.
"Nana wanted you to have this. That's the only reason I'm here."
I stood up, my hands trembling—not from fear, but rage. Pure, raw, burning rage.
"I hope you get everything that's coming to you."
I turned and walked out, not waiting for his response. I didn't need it. I wouldn't believe it anyway.
As I stepped into the parking lot, the sunlight hit my face like a slap—too bright, too warm. Undeserved. I slid into my car, slamming the door shut.
He used to carry me on his shoulders and call me his little queen.
Now look at him. A king of nothing.
I pulled out my phone, just to feel something else, and a message popped up from Zara.
> Zara: Girls night out at Club Elixir. See you there, bitch
You need this. Wear something slutty.
PS: Your crown is showing. Fix it.
A small, mischievous smile crept across my lips.
Yeah. I needed this.
Tonight, I'd forget.