You continue living.

“You asshole!” your daughter, Stella, shouts at you as you open the door to your apartment. “You were supposed to pick us up this morning!” she continues to shout at you.

“Hey! Language!” You reactively say, your parental instincts kicking in. “And also, you’re not the pizza delivery guy” you tell her jokingly. You actually were just thinking it could be the pizza guy. It’s not your fault your daughter decided to surprise you by coming home early for her summer break.

“Not funny dad. I’ve been calling you all morning! I can’t believe you flaked on me!” Stella shouted.

“What? I’m not supposed to pick you up until Saturday right?” you asked her genuinely confused.

“What day do you think it is?” she asks you.

Uhhhh…

“It’s Saturday, Dad! The day I told you to pick us up LAST week!” she shouts at you before you could reply.

Oh shit.

She pushes you aside so she can enter the apartment, dragging her suitcase inside, clearly furious. She takes out her phone and puts it to her ear, apparently calling someone. You hope it’s not her mother. Although, you wouldn’t blame her for giving up on you after you apparently skipped an entire week in your brain.

You hear the buzzing noises of your phone on the couch. Stella goes to where the vibrating noise is and picks up an empty pizza box that was on your couch and throws it forcefully to the side.

Shit. You didn’t realize how much you’ve been living like a bum recently. You look around and you realize your place is a mess.

“So your phone does fucking work.” Stella shouts at you as she looks at the screen. “Oh, look. 16 missed calls, and 33 unread messages since LAST week. ALL FROM ME!” She continues. You notice the light from your phone’s screen die so she stops looking at it, and starts looking at you.

“I don’t know if it’s sadder that I’m the only person who tried to contact you in a week or that the only person who tried to contact you was just doing so to remind you that YOU’RE PICKING THEM UP TODAY.” she shouted the last few words clapping her hands at every word for emphasis.

“You had one fucking job, Dad.” Her eyes are getting red and beginning to tear up.

She finally takes a deep breath through her nose, after deservedly tearing you a new one. But the worst part was what came next.

“This was a mistake.” she said with a coldness in her voice. A part of you died a little hearing those words.

“I should’ve fucking known.” Stella adds. Now all of you feels dead.

She shoves your phone to your chest as a way to forcefully hand it to you and push you out of her way at the same time. Your daughter walks by you towards the door.

She stops herself by the doorway though, gripping the side of the frame as if it’s the only thing keeping her up. “You’re the only family I have left, Dad. I put all my chips on you. So get your shit together.” She addresses you, with her back still towards you. “Please.”

The last word was obviously difficult for her to say. She was pleading with you, but it was also an ultimatum at the same time. She was **** up, trying to hold back tears, until she finally walked down the hallway towards the stairs.

You remain standing on the spot speechless. You deserved all of that, and probably more. You still stupidly have your hand to your chest, holding your phone on the spot where she shoved you after opening the door.

“Well, this is awkward.” Someone says from the hallway. You see a tall brunette show herself through the doorway, smiling and awkwardly raising her hand to say hi.

“Hey, Mr. Craig. It’s nice to see you again.”