Page 61 of Awestruck at Dusk
“Please, don’t let anyone inside the bathroom right now,” I begged, addressing Amena. I dropped the glass on the long marble sink and rested my left hand on it as I let my head hang. I intended to find a cozy spot in this bathroom and spend the night here. I didn’t have the courage to step out.
“The bathroom’s locked, Miss Murphy,” Amena said with a firm bodyguard stance in place. “We’re the only ones inside right now.”
Perfect.
“Who’s got my purse?” I asked.
“David’s got it. Just a second.” She clicked on her earpiece, nodded a few times, and aimed at the door. She unlocked it and opened it just a tad, enough for David to hand over my bag. I washed my hands with Nina’s help as Amena retrieved it. “Here you go, Miss Murphy.”
I grabbed a hair tie from my purse and fastened my hair in a low pony. That was the only way I could wear it up since it was too short. I threw water at my face a few times, feeling how the sweat beads stuck on my forehead dissolved away. I rinsed my mouth with water and chugged down the rest of the glass Amena had bought for me.
“Thank God,” I said, looking at the mouth wash dispenser on the far end of the countertop. I filled a small paper cup and shot it inside my mouth, spitting it after I swished it for almost half a minute. I tossed the paper cup on the waste bin and grabbed a mint from a small basket of goodies just to make sure my breath was minty fresh.
Damn, I was so dizzy. That dreaded ice-cold sweat wanted to creep up on me again, and I’d sell my soul twice just to avoid having to throw up again on that bathroom, as fancy as it was.
I spotted two sofa chairs to my right just beside the door, and I hurried to throw myself back on one of them. That scared the chills away.
“Shit, Billie,” Nina said, squatting in front of me. “Do you need to go back to the bathroom? Maybe you still—”
“No,no. I’m fine now. It helped, throwing up before. I just need a second.”
A knock on the door.
Amena approached it and opened it just a tad. It was my father, and he stepped right in.
“I’ll be outside,” Nina said, abandoning me to my father. She didn’t want to wait to be thrown out because that’s exactly what was going to happen next if she stayed.
“Amena, could you bring my daughter more water please,” my father said with his commanding voice. The one that only ever makes an appearance on rare occasions. Amena nodded and stepped out. I wondered if she would actually bring the water or not. Maybe it was my father’s polite way to ask her to leave.
My father paced in front of me as if gathering his thoughts. I tried sitting up as straight as I could at my malaise’s expense but focused on taking slow and steady breaths through my nose.
He finally stopped, but I didn’t dare to meet his gaze.
“We’re leaving right now. You’re to be taken straight home. Nathan can ride with you, but he will be driven to his apartment afterward,” he said. “I’ve already informed him about this. He’s in no position to be taking care of you right now either. He’s too intoxicated for my liking. One thing is to have a few drinks, and a whole other is to—”
He cut himself mid-sentence and shook his head a few times.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I got a little excited with the wine, and I swear this is the first time this has ever happened. Nathan never drinks like that either.”
“You were smoking too. You reek of it,” my father snapped back. “It took me a while to get your mother straightened out of her—pleasures. The drinking. The smoking. She was the one who asked for help, by the way. She would get too carried away at times. Always alone, she drank. Never at functions. It was all too stressful for her. Being the ambassador’s wife. She never wanted that life, and I was too selfish to oblige to her wishes.”
What? It was the first time I ever heard about this.
“You’re just like her, you know,” he continued. I planned to let him speak. “You might look like me, but you’re allher. In every possible way. It’s painful to watch.” He shut his eyes and looked slightly away, his mouth a tight line.
A constant reminder that she’s gone. And how he probably thought it was his fault.
He took a deep breath and addressed me once again. “I know that I’ve restrained you and that you must feel this—constanturgeto break away. I know your mother did. But you need to know that it’s been necessary. I tried giving your mother some sense of normalcy by having discreet security around her and look at what happened. I can’t—won’tallow it again.”
“What happened?” I dared to ask. “I’m old enough to know.” This seemed like the best opportunity to ask. He was rambling. He never did. Perhaps he’d finally tell me the truth or maybe I could find a way to lure it out of him.
“You know all there is to know,” he said.
“Don’t you mean allyou want meto know? Is it that bad that you can’t tell me? I’m not a child anymore. I can’t take it. Just say it.”
He paced back and forth again, slower this time. And I didn’t know if he was finding the courage to finally talk to me or if he was just disappointed in me for wanting to know so much. His face dripped with frustration.
“It’s time to go home, Guillermina,” he replied instead. “I’m sorry your celebration has to end this way, but you’re in no condition to step out like this.”
