Chapter 12
Josh
There was a time when this woman was beautiful. Back when the autumn sun made her blond hair glow. Back when all she had to do was look at me to radiate from within. Today, nothing remains of it. Marlene is like an icicle—devoid of warmth and emotion.
"Why did you hire a nanny?" She wants to know in a shrill tone, pacing up and down the living room. "Especially one like that?"
Her voice amplifies my already nearly unbearable headache. But even though her behavior is exaggerated, she isn't entirely wrong. I myself can hardly imagine that this Maya is the right one for the job.
"You need to spend time with Sophia yourself." She's not going to let it go. Why should she?
Just in case, I bury my hands in the pockets of my faded jeans. "I would love to, but..."
"Save your excuses. I already know the reason." Her accusatory gaze hits me.
Even though I'm not in the mood for it, I take a step toward her. "This time it's different," I try to explain, strenuously suppressing the guilt that threatens to spread within me. Keeping my cool is hard enough as it is, but if this escalates, it benefits no one.
A strained sigh escapes her perfectly made-up lips. " Isn't it always?" Now she stops in her movement. Like a porcelain figurine, she stands in the entrance area directly under the ceiling light between the antique furniture and the tall plants.
What am I supposed to answer to that? She doesn't understand me, and if I'm honest with myself, she never has. How could I explain to her that I have nothing in life but piano playing?
That I can't do anything, and I am nobody if I don't play.
"How many sacrifices has your oh-so-important career path already demanded?" Her expression tells me that I better not answer that. "Don't you dare make Sophia one of them."
I would never let that happen!
Guilt rises in me, burning like stomach acid. And this, even though she has no right to accuse me. After all, she's the one who wants to enjoy the summer with her new beau. A child would naturally be a nuisance in that scenario. So why shouldn't she pass her daughter on to the father, who's always blamed for everything anyway? "If you're so worried about our girl, why do you leave her with me at all?" Though I'm already boiling inside, I maintain a calm and thoughtful tone.
Marlene, on the other hand, doesn't even bother to keep her emotions in check. "You are her father. Stop acting like a wimp trying to dodge your responsibility." She points her index finger at me, ugly wrinkles forming around her mouth. "I've sacrificed the best years of my life for you. Everything revolved around you and your damn career. That stops now, got it?"
How am I supposed to respond to that ?
I don't know. I let my shoulders slump forward. "I will take good care of Sophia." And now, please leave , is what I would like to add. Because the truth is that I can hardly stand it any longer. Dizziness now joins my headache. I'm already carrying too much. What she's burdening me with on top of everything is just too much.
I’m just a human after all.
But I can't afford to act like one.
For a moment, silence dominates the atmosphere between us. Marlene's eyes are full of hatred.
I wonder what she sees in my gaze. Does she see the conflict that keeps me awake at night? Does she notice the depression that sticks to me like the smell of rotten fish?
Suddenly, someone clears their throat. "Excuse me," a bell-like voice says, breaking the tense silence that has spread like thick fog in the living room.
I turn around.
Maya stands upright like a ballerina in her tulle skirt in the doorway, judging us with her gaze. As if she could understand what's going on here. She has no right to that.
Just what I need. "Yes?"
She seems oblivious to the explosive atmosphere. She strains to lift the corners of her mouth into a smile. "Sophia needs her suitcases."
Marlene's hand gesture directs Maya to the entrance door. "In the car. It's open."
"Thank you." It's not what she's thinking, that much is certain. She immediately starts moving and disappears within a few seconds.
I turn back to my ex-wife. I desperately hope that she is as tired as I am. And that she also realizes that this is leading nowhere. I look at her expectantly.
She straightens her shoulders. "Then I'll go say goodbye to Sophia," she says and immediately runs up the stairs at a pace as if she had to escape from a wild animal.
It's over.
Finally.
An overwhelming fatigue washes over me. I'd love to sink into one of the green leather chairs and close my eyes. But I can't afford that. So I drag myself through the living room toward the music room. After what feels like an eternity, I finally reach where the medicines wait for me, which I so desperately need for my pains.
"Um, Josh?"
Even without turning around, I know Maya is standing behind me. I take a long breath and take my hand off the doorknob. "Yes?"
"Sophia would surely be happy if we all ate dinner together tonight. Her mother should stay, too." I hear the cheap fabric of her skirt rustling as if she were fiddling with the hem. "She needs it to settle in here."
A shared dinner? That's impossible. "Marlene probably doesn't have time." I pause for a moment. I really don't want to say the next words. "And neither do I," I say anyway in a steady voice. There's simply no other way. Even if I try my best to make my right hand do nothing, it would inevitably happen. Just one careless move. Or a distraction that makes me forget. And I would be found out. The risk is too high.
"You should, though." I hear steps approaching me. The next moment, Maya glides past me and stands before me. "Sophia urgently needs attention. Everything here is foreign to her. She's scared."
A crushing guilt spreads within me. It penetrates every corner of my body, robbing me of breath.
What kind of father am I?
Despite everything burdening me, I should be there for Sophia. I should love her, hug her, and play with her. But the truth is that I don't know how to do that. For all her life, I never had time for her. And when I observed her tantrum out of the corner of my eye today, I felt more helpless than ever before.
I can't do it. I'm a cursed failure with a head about to explode.
"For Sophia's well-being, you're responsible. Just do the job you're paid for," I say, and hate myself a moment later for my own words. This injury turns me into a monster, and I lack the energy to change that. I clumsily open the door to the music room. "Excuse me, please. My piano is waiting for me."
"But..." Maya says, but I close the door behind me so quickly that I can no longer understand the rest.
Frustrated, I take my medicine, step up to the piano, and spread out the sheet music of my current composition in front of me. Then I place my hands on the keys and play as well as I can. But where the sound of the music usually touches me deeply, a big black hole exists today that absorbs the melody before it can make my soul resonate.