You still smell of him
“You still smell of him, go wash again.” mom said to me. I wasn’t surprised she could tell. After all, he was her husband.
“I’ll go prepare some pepper soup for you. It’s good for hangovers”, she left to the kitchen.
Mom had this smile on her face like all was well, but I knew she was pretending to be calm. Her once glorious and respected daughter was drunk at the pub last night, sitting on a man’s lap. A man who was supposed to be her protector. Her own father.
I heard mom sobbing in the kitchen. I felt sorry for her. I felt sorry for myself too. I was wasting my life, clubbing day and night with my dad, my ‘sugar daddy’. And now my mom caught us yesterday.
“Here is your soup,” mom put my serving on the table.
“Mom, I’m sorry. Okay? I’ll be a better person. No more getting drunk behind your back, no more entertaining dad.”
I looked her in the eye and said, “And you’re right, I still smell like him, I’ll go wash again.”
