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474 Words
- How are you ? Her voice was bitter, tinged with insincerity, and her eyes, whose lids I could see reflected on the bay window, were on her nails.
She disgusted me. I was disgusted to have accepted his presence. Except that I couldn't help it. It seemed to make dad happy.
- You have no interest in that. I replied with a dry tone and without bothering to face him.
My mother breathed out, rolled her eyes, then clicked her tongue.
The one who had given me life had always been distant from me. No complicity. Even though Dad wouldn't admit it, I knew he was the reason she deigned to see me sporadically.
Madame Kwin lost interest in me and took in love her phone. Then his attention returned to me. She stared at me as one would stare in disgust if he were personified. Again she shifted her attention, but this time it was on her fingernails.
Without me being able to anticipate it, my mother slapped her thighs which were hugged in the gray skirt of her suit, then she uncrossed her legs, and stood up.
- I think it's good, I've endured enough for today ! she cried, looking at her watch. I can go ...
Today, compared to other days, she put an end to this lie very quickly. And I was somewhat relieved. I was suffocating in the face of so much hypocrisy. This disenchantment was mutual.
- I would have liked it to be you who were struck by this disease and that you die !
My heart was stingy with hatred towards my father. Over the years, I had had to work on myself so that she did not trap me in harmful thoughts. However, I couldn't shake my resentment for her. It was a most vicious and destructive circle. I was aware of it, but I couldn't suppress my feelings.
Madame Kwin slowed down, then stopped. Without turning around, she said :
- And I am relieved that it is you that she is chosen. Thus, nature restores the balance broken in the past.
I turned slowly and my gaze, charged with acrimony, met his. In horror, I had it. Nature had made a mistake in accepting that she could give birth.
His blond hair, cut in a square cut, swayed under his controlled thrusts. His skinny figure walked through the door. When she closed it, I thought I could make out my father's voice.
- Marie, is she okay ?
- Georges, his condition ... it is filthy !
My father's voice thundered immediately, then disappeared along with their restless footsteps and hostile exchanges.
His attitude was so familiar to me. Marie Pavlova will never change. The tear that slipped from my cheek, I brushed it off with the back of my finger.
- Writer
