The Husband Beside Me(32)

“You want to kill me now, don’t you?” He wiggled his eyebrows and left to join my father. I was left in the kitchen still holding onto my knife. I reached up unknowingly and felt my lips. His heat still lingered. Bastard!

I served dinner, which my father ate happily. I sat watching him eat and actually enjoying his food; it was the first time I saw him do this since my mother had died. My father was no longer sick and he could finally live a full life. Seeing him healthy and happy made what I had done feel like the right decision. I knew in the end all that mattered was my family’s happiness and Daimon provided that. Yes, he needed me too, but because of his money, I was able to finally make right what I had done wrong all those years ago.

“Are you going to eat?” my father asked, holding onto his bread.

“I’m eating.” I smiled.

“You look like you’ve lost weight. I want to see you eat all the food on your plate,” my father grunted.

“I told you. You lost weight. You better be eating,” Daimon bit out.

“Listen, you two. I'm fine,” I said, taking a mouthful of pork roast.

Once we ate, I cleaned up, and then finally sat down and readied my gift for my father. Daimon had given me a credit card with my name on it, which I could use as I pleased. I felt uncomfortable every time I used it, but I had no other choice. It wasn’t like I had money of my own to spend. Every dollar I made, I paid bills, either for the house or for Sofia. Before Sofia had left, I gave her a few thousand dollars to help her through her time at Yale. I knew it wasn’t enough, but I still wanted her to have her own money.

My father sat down in his armchair and smiled; actually, he giggled as he opened up his gift. It was the sweater he wanted. I watched as his eyes twinkled. It never took much to make my father happy.

“Thank you, Addie,” he said as he rose up to kiss me.

“That’s not all,” Daimon said as he reached into his jacket and took out an envelope.

My father looked at it skeptically. He then turned his gaze at me. I shrugged, not really knowing what Daimon had planned. My father slowly opened it and looked at the contents carefully.

“What did you get him?” I leaned back and asked Daimon, but Daimon only smiled at me.

“It’s a ticket to go back home,” my father murmured.

“What?” I said taken aback.

“I got you an open ticket. You can leave when you want and come back when you feel like it,” Daimon stated.

“It’s been years since I’ve been able to go back home,” my father lamented. I knew how much he had wanted all these years to go back, but he couldn’t. I struggled in vain to save up money for him to go, but something always came up.

“Thank you, son,” my father breathed, as he looked over his ticket, not once looking at either one of us.

Daimon’s breath hitched the moment my father thanked him. I looked up to see an expression I had never seen Daimon have; he was touched. Daimon was affected by my father’s simple words. Jesus, what happened to him to make him so jaded? It was Daimon after all. Nothing had ever affected him before.

Daimon coughed and finally spoke. “I'm glad…you like it,” Daimon said awkwardly. “Don’t you think we should go now?” He turned to me, his sky-blue eyes not asking but telling me.

“I guess,” I muttered.

“Okay, kids, you go and enjoy the rest of your night and thank you for spending Christmas with me.” My dad stood up to walk us to the door.

“Dad, there’s no other place I’d rather be.” I smiled and hugged him.

“You know you’d rather be in our bed,” Daimon whispered to me as I put on my winter coat. I turned and glared at him, but all he did was wink at me.

I left Daimon in the house as I marched out, annoyed at his behavior. The asshole knew exactly how to goad me and he loved it. To be honest, it was really my fault since I let him get to me.

“Joke! A joke!” he shouted out as I stood by his car. Daimon beeped the car and the door unlocked. I slid in not acknowledging him. “Come on. Don’t be like that. It’s Christmas,” he mocked.

“Why did you do that for him?” I asked without realizing.

“What? The ticket?”

“Yes, the ticket,” I murmured.

“Why not? Your dad worked hard and I just thought he deserved to go back home.” He shrugged as he started the car.

“Thank you for doing that for him.” I smiled as I felt my heart well up.

“I didn’t do it for him. You did. I figured you’ll play nice tomorrow since it’s our first real outing as a married couple,” he taunted.