My Father’s Best Friend and I

Chapter 3

I quickly rushed to my mini cooper, got the cake from the hood and placed it carefully on the drive way

However angry I was, I wasn’t about to ruin Mrs.Bettys’ hard work.

I started my engine and sped away, away from an old memory I had no intentions of revisiting

The drive back home was the quietest thirty minutes of my life. I had left dad standing on the sidewalk in the heat with his plans and opportunities as he had called it. The truth is I really wanted a new life, a new job and most certainly to leave this small town and start afresh but I chose mum, I chose loyalty, I had chosen home.

I pulled into the driveway, the porch light glowing with a warmth that felt like a reward.

What was the porch light doing on this time of the day? Did I forget to turn it off this morning?

dragging myself toward the front door, I unlocked it and let myself in quietly, My mind in the clouds, I reminded myself that I would have to call in sick at the bakery.

The house smelled like the expensive vanilla candles mother loved, was mum home?

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a sound stopped me.

It wasn't a "welcome home" sound.

It was a laugh low, intimate, and breathless coming from the master bedroom. It was followed by a man’s voice, a deep murmur that definitely didn't belong to Matthew.

My heart didn't race; it went cold. I felt a sickening sense of déjà vu. I felt my legs give out and I fell onto the floor, the loud clack of the heaviness echoing through the foyer.

The house went dead silent.

I didn't wait. I quickly picked myself up and took the stairs two at a time, fueled by a frantic hope that i was wrong. I threw the bedroom door open.

The scene was a cliché that cut like a razor. Mum was scrambled back against the headboard, clutching a silk robe to her chest, her hair a wild mess. A man I recognized as a "family friend" from the country club was fumbling for his shirt on the floor.

"Amanda!" mum gasped, her face turning a ghostly, panicked white. "You weren't supposed to be home until seven!, ! I thought you were at the bakery!"

I stood in the doorway, my hand still white knuckled on the knob.i looked at the man, then back at my mother . The woman i had just defended. The woman i had sacrificed my relationship and new career with Dad for.

"I told him he couldn't just fix things with a job," i whispered, my voice trembling with a jagged, ugly irony. "I told him I was staying here because this was where my family were."

"Mandy, honey, listen to me it’s not what it looks like. Matthew and I, we’ve been having a hard time, and—"

"Stop." My voice cracked. I looked at the bed, then at the man who was now trying to edge toward the door. "I just broke my father's heart for you. I chose the 'honest' parent but I guess Dad was actually right.”

“What are you talking about Amanda?”

I backed away from the door, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in my throat. I had traded one ghost for a liar.

"Don't look for me ," I said, my eyes dead as i looked at my mum

. "And don't call me. You and Matthew are both the same. You just hide it better."

I turned and ran back down the stairs, the front door slamming behind me so hard the glass rattled in the frame.

The sound was swallowed instantly by the crack of thunder. I didn't grab a coat. I didn't grab my keys. I just ran. I ran as fast as I could. I ran away from all those painful nights that I kept asking myself what went wrong, I ran to replace this pain with numbness,I ran because I needed to get out of here. I needed to be as far away from my mum, this town, as far away as possible. Tears couldn’t stop streaming down my face.

The rain was like a physical weight, cold and needles-sharp, soaking through my thin tank top until it felt like a second, suffocating skin. Behind me, in that house, the image was burned into my retina, mum, that woman who preached "integrity" while she poisoned dads name, tangled up with a man who wasn't Matthew.

The betrayal tasted like copper in my mouth. Matthew was at work, working hard for her for us, oblivious, and she was destroying us all with a smile.

I was done being the glue, I thought, my breath hitching in my chest. I was done holding together a life built on consequences of her decisions. If only she had accepted dads’ help, maybe I wouldn’t have had such a huge student loan, maybe I would’ve been employable. Maybe…

The gravel of the tarmac road bit into my feet, but I didn't slow down. My heart hammered a single word: Florida.

It sounded like a fever dream, like a clean slate, like a life where I wasn't just a bakery girl for a family that didn't exist.

"Wait!" I screamed, the wind tearing the word from my lips.

A black SUV was in the drive way, exhaust ghosting into the damp air. Dad stood by the door, his overcoat buttoned tight, looking older and more tired than he had hours ago.

"Amanda?" he asked, pausing with his hand on the door handle. "I thought we said our goodbyes."

I stopped a few feet away, drenched and shaking, not from the cold, but from the sudden, violent collapse of my reality.

I didn't care if he was the villain she’d spent five years painting him to be. Even if he was a monster, at least he was an honest one.

"You told me the truth," I rasped, my voice breaking. "About why you left. About her."

He looked at me, his expression softening into something pained. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"She’s been keeping me in a cage built of lies for twenty four years." I stepped forward, the gravel crunching under my sneakers.

"The offer you made this morning... to go to Florida. To start over. Does it still stand?"

The driver cleared his throat, pointing to his watch. Dad ignored him. He looked at me, fully looked at me and saw the fire that had finally replaced the resentment.

"It stands until the moment the wheels leave the tarmac," he said.

I didn't look back at the town, or the road to the house where mum was likely waiting with a home-cooked meal and another web of deceit. I walked straight to the car.

"Then let’s go," I said, my voice turning to flint.

He opened the door for me, a silent gesture of a new beginning.

As the SUV pulled away, I watched my reflection in the darkened window. The girl who had made the delivery that morning was gone.

The cabin of this Private jet was pressurized, silent, and smelled faintly of bergamot and expensive Scotch. It was a jarring shift from the humid, rain-soaked chaos of ten minutes ago.

I sat on the edge of a cream leather seat that felt softer than anything I’d ever touched, my wet clothes leaving a dark, mocking stain on the upholstery.

I looked around, my chest still heaving. This wasn't just a plane; it was a flying palace. Brushed gold accents, hand-woven carpets, and a bar stocked with bottles that probably cost more than mine and mum’s car combined.

"Drink this," my dad said. he handed me a crystal glass of amber liquid.

"It’ll stop the shaking."

"How?" I whispered, my voice sounding small against the hum of the engines. I looked at the sleek tablet built into the armrest, the high-definition monitors displaying stock tickers and flight paths.

"When you left... you had nothing. Mom said you blew it all.

He sat across from me, looking perfectly at home in the opulence. "Your mother saw what she wanted to see, Amanda I didn't blow it. I moved it. I spent five years building a company in the Caribbean and three more turning it into a private equity firm in Florida ."

The chime of the intercom cut through the tension of the cabin, the pilot’s voice smooth and professional.

"Mr. Vance, miss Amanda , we’ve begun our final descent into Miami. Please tighten your seat belts. We’ll be on the ground in ten minutes."

I looked out the window. The dark, suffocating woods of my hometown had been replaced by a sprawling grid of neon gold and sapphire blue, hugging the edge of a black ocean. It looked like a different planet.

"We're here," dad said, watching me closely.