Let God be the author

Chapter 12

Bennett POV:

Today has been the third worst day of my life. Elisha ignored me the whole day at school and when we were given time to work in our pairs, she left me and went to Brielle and Zach. When the lesson was over, I tried talking to her but she gave me a deadly glare, packed her books and walked away.

During the entire practice, I was on autopilot mode, filled with thousands of thoughts. Thoughts on how dumb I had been. How I had ruin the best friendship I had ever had. To make matters, after practice I saw Elisha standing with Zach near the coffee shop she works at. I saw how she smiled at him the same way she used to smile at me. It looked like she had found a new friend to replace me with. I didn't play a significant role in her life either way so why should I act like I was valuable. All I did was throw all my emotional baggage at her and treat her like a second hand object.

Ever since the incident, I have this great sense of guilt that I feel because of how I mocked God in the locker rooms. How I had denied trying to find him again. What's wrong with me? It's like I want to do the right thing but I end up doing wrong. I once again feel abandoned and alone with no one to hold.

As I drove in the my yard, I notice my father's limo parked in the drive way. After six months in Thailand I guess he finally decided to come home. Gosh, how I was dreaded seeing him. I dragged my feet out of the car and with no energy, opened the house door.

"Hello son."

Greeted my father in a monotone.

He was sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper and had a glass on whiskey on the coffee table.

"Hi Michael."

I replied unamused.

After my mother passed away, I never looked at him the same. I stopped calling him father and called him by his first name. I lost respect for him the way day he lost respect for my mother.

"Long time no see."

His voice trailed off as he skimmed through the paper.

"I know."

I replied dry, walking to the fridge to get a bottle of water. Anything that will distract me from his presence would help.

"I thought I'd come to check if the house is still in good condition. You've been doing a great job in maintaining it."

"Ok"

I replied after taking a sip of my water.

"I'll be leaving in a few minutes for China. We hit the jackpot on a collaboration with Wong Corporation."

"Cool"

Was all I could say in this forced and coarse conversation.

"How has school been?"

He placed the paper besides him as he took a sip of his whiskey.

"School's been school. I'll be in my room if you need me."

I walked out the kitchen and headed to my bedroom. I couldn't stand being in the same room as him for more than a minute. Everytime I got near him, I could feel my skin burning.

"Young man come here." His voice was softy spoken but stern. " I hope you remember the deal we made at the start of this year. Its your last year in university and next year you'll be running the family business."

My body stiffened at the mention of running the business. This is one thing we always fought about. 

"I don't want to run the family business."

I raised my voice in refusal.

"You will do as I say and I will not repeat myself." His voice went up too,"I raised you so you will do as I tell you."

That statement alone made me explode.

"You never raised me, Fiona did." I barked. "The only thing you did was use your dirty money to pay for things."

"Talk to me with some respect, you pig. Who do you think you are?"

He jumped out of his chair and walked up to me with burning eyes.

"I lost respect for you the day you killed mom."

Slap

He slapped me and my head turned. But because of the anger I had, I felt no pain. I just felt disgust and pure hatred.

"You never talk to me like that."

He spat.

"Or what, you'll make me commit suicide as well."

I bit back.

"Listen here young man, if you ever and I mean ever come near me with that attitude, I won't hesitate to make your life a living nightmare. Are we clear.?"

I kept quiet and scrutinized his eyes.

"Sorry to disturb you sir but we have to get going. Your private jet leaves in 30 minutes."

Obiri, my father's private bodyguard and driver came into the tense room and announced.

"I'll be right there, Obiri"

He grabbed his briefcase and downed his whiskey in one go.

"Good night son"

He said as he adjusted my wrinkled shirt.

"Good night Michael."

I hissed, hatred evident in my tone.

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