His Curvy Obsession

Nine

Chapter 9

Angelina's eyes momentarily flew open when he left abruptly as her gown slipped down her body, leaving her in the white lingerie she was given to wear today. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she was embarrassed for expecting more.

She didn't understand why she was hurt by his action because she didn't have any feelings for him. Maybe like him, though, but one can't like a person you just met, she thought bitterly as her phone flashed her dad's name on the screen; she sniffed while wiping her running nose.

She swiped it to the green side and held the phone to her left ear, and was greeted by her dad's cheerful voice. "Hello Adenike Mi,'' She smiled, feeling nostalgic at her father's voice. Had it been, she was at home with her father, her father would have cooked her favourite food, which was pounded yam and egusi (melon soup) for her. After eating, her father said she should walk with him outside under the drumstick tree in front of their house. They would sit on the permanent bench and stare at the twinkling stars. Then she would put her head on her father's thigh, who would recite her eulogy for her and patted her head soothingly. She missed him, and she missed everything, even though she had her darkest past. There is no place like home, she thought.

"Denike, are you there?" her father's voice drifted her from her thoughts.

"Yeah," she rubbed her forehead, "I'm okay, papa," she replied in a small voice.

"Denike," he called her softly, "I know you aren't alright. Your voice is down, and whenever you say you are okay, you are a hundred per cent away from it," her father stated the obvious. She sniffed again, feeling the tears she had been keeping since the first time wanting to leak, "Papa—" she called again.

"What happened, dear?" her father asked, removing the toothpick in his mouth. He called her, wanting to tease her about him eating her favourite food that she had missed. Who knew she was feeling down?

"Papa," her voice croaked, "I'm married," she whispered and used her hand to clamp her mouth shut as a sob wanted to escape.

"You are married?" her father asked slowly, wanting to know what he heard.

"Yeah," she nodded, even though he couldn't see her.

"I hope you love the guy," her father said in a statement that was the last straw to make her burst out the tears she had been holding. Her emotions had been jumbled together since morning, her insecurities and everything.

"Pour out your heart, my pearl. I hear you, munchkin," her father smiled softly as tears brimmed in his own eyes also. She did not need to talk because he could understand her perfectly.

"Papa," she sniffed, "Papa—" she paused a little, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. "It hurt," she cried out, her lips trembling, "it is painful to be odd out of all," she sobbed, covering her mouth to stop her from screaming, but it was hard to control her cries, "why can't I be the same?" she asked. Her father didn't say anything, wanting her to rant all out. "I was bullied because my mother never was in the picture when I was in primary school. I was bullied in secondary school because I was too brilliant than others and the…." She choked on her tears as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She could still remember the abuse she faced when she was in school. Just because her eye colour differed from others, she was labelled a witch, which she used to come out with flying colours. She had been ganged up on before. Even some of the scars were on her back as a reminder. She focused on her academics and studied harder, then was given a scholarship to another, which she thought she would escape but her skin colour! Why can't she be normal like all?! she thought. She started skipping her meals to reduce her weight which resulted in her having an ulcer, but it helped a little. She didn't want all she had, and she hated her body, eyes, brain, and everything except her pointed nose, prominent dimples, and long hair.

"Denike mi, ọmọ ọba,'' her father gently trying to calm her hysterically breathing down, "They are jealous and envious of you, my daughter," he father stated firmly, "I always tell you, people condemn you when they don't have anything to talk about or when they see you are better than them. And what I tell you and will always tell you is to be yourself and make all who belittled you be a litter in your world," her father advised her.

Her father could perfectly understand her because he had passed through it before. He had been looking down on his life except for his Elena, who stood by him even when her family shunned her, which made her leave with him to his country only to die when she gave birth to their little blessing. And he vowed to take care of her.

She sniffed, wiping her tears, feeling a little light. Her father was her anchor, her best friend, and her hero. He was everything a daughter could ever ask for. "I'm fine now. Papa," She said in a hoarded voice.

"That's my baby," he paused, smiling cheekily.

"Old man, why did you call?" she asked playfully.

"Old man?" she rolled her eyes at her father's tactics.

"Uhn, old man," she grinned.

"Well, this old man called you—" she could hear the proudness from his voice, "to tease you tha—"

"That—?" she asked, raising her brow.

"Tha—" her father teased, knowing she would feel frustrated already.

She huffed annoyingly, "Don't tell me again?!" she stumbled her feet on the floor.

"To tease you because I'm eating your favourite food," she sighed out, missing the taste of her father's food.

After a loud, peaceful silence, "Papa," she called, "I married a stranger today. I don't know how I feel, but I think I like him a little," she confessed, twirling her hair while her father stared at the moonlight and sighed.

"Don't tell me a stranger has stolen my daughter's heart," her father tutted, laughing out loud while she giggled.

"No, joor," she smiled shyly.

"Well, that's good; as much as you like him, I accept him and like him," her father chirped. "I need to go now, baby; I'll call you later. I love you, my jewel," her father said.

"I love you too," she hung up.

Meanwhile, her father stared at the ring on his middle finger longingly. It has been twenty-two years since she left him and her baby alone in this world but never his heart. He wished her daughter happiness and hoped her love would not be like his.

She sighed, putting her phone on the nightstand and took the gown that was on the floor, and then folded it beside the bedside before entering the bathroom to take her to bathe after a long day.

At the other end, Nathaniel was standing at the door hearing everything that had been said, whereas earlier, he had come to apologise for his behaviour as he clenched his fist in anger.