Page 116 of Habits

When I come to my dad’s office, the door is closed, but like every other time, I don’t knock before entering. If he was with a patient or family, Sally would have mentioned it to me on my way in.

Muffled sounds come from within, and then I hear something fall just as I open the door.

Standing there, in the middle of my dad’s office and bent over the table, is a nurse with her pale, naked ass in the air and scrubs nowhere in sight. And standing right behind her, thrusting like his life depends on it, is my father. Thank God I couldn’t see anything because of his coat, but clearly his pants are pooled around his ankles.

Their passionate moans fill the small space, and the smell of sex is etched into the walls.

I’m not sure what happens next. How it happens. I’m not aware that I moved or made a sound, but I must have, because both of them turn around abruptly, looking at me with confused, passion-filled eyes.

The girl, who can’t bethatmuch older than me, looks petrified and maybe even ashamed. My dad? He just looks shocked.

“Jeanette …” He breaths my name, his eyes wide.

I take him in, my skin crawling in disgust. Shaking my head, I take a step back. I keep retreating until I’m out of the room.

He calls my name again, but I ignore him. Turning around, I start running.

What is happening here? Dad is cheating on Mom? Does she know? Does Max know? How could he do this? To me? To us? How could he do this? Is this the first time or …?

Tears run down my cheeks as I take the stairs two at the time. The elevator is nowhere in sight, and I don’t want to risk him catching up to me.

I need space. I need to think.

What am I going to do? How am I supposed to tell Mom, tell Max, that Dad has been cheating?

What am I going to do?

* * *

NOW

A sob rips through my throat as soon as I get outside. The sky is a gloomy gray color, now almost completely dark. There is a slight chill in the air and I wrap my hands around myself tighter, running toward my car. I have to get out of here.

This can’t be happening again.

Not after everything.

Not after all the secrets I kept and all the lies I told to keep my family intact. Not after everything I sacrificed so my brother and my mother would never find out the truth. Not after all the guilt. God, theguilt.It’s been eating at me alive, but I’ve kept it all in.

I can’t go through it again.

When I see my car in the parking lot, my hand digs into my purse to find the key. After some shuffling through all the shit I have in there, my fingers finally wrap around it, only for it to fall on the ground through my shaky fingers.

“Fuck.”

Bending down I grab it again, my grip on the plastic strong as I press the button to unlock the door.

Tumbling into my seat, I let my tears fall.

Why is this happening again?

Why? Why? Why?

With every why, my clenched fist connects to the steering wheel in front of me.

That day when Dad got home, he confronted me. He wanted to know if I’d told anybody and if I planned to. Begged me not to. Like I had it in me to break Mom’s and Max’s hearts.

I inherited a lot of things from my father—his wits, his smarts, his love for medicine—but one thing I didn’t inherit is his ability to willingly break people’s hearts. I did, however, inherit something else, something even worse: his ability to betray. I betrayed my family by keeping his transgressions a secret.

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