Flytrap | WATTYS 2022 SHORTLIST

21 | Wormwood

"Hey, Dad." Barbara knocked on the partially open door, trying not to peer in unless she wanted to be potentially traumatized. "Can I talk to you?"

James glanced over his shoulder, a warm smile—as well as clothes—visible through the crack. "Sure, honey. What's up?"

Pushing the door back to its full width, Barbara rolled inside and frowned at the rented tuxedo laying on the bed. "I see you're already getting ready."

"Well, the wedding is only a few hours away," he chuckled. "Maybe you should start getting ready too?"

Barbara nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Uh, yeah. I will. It's just... I was wondering if you were having any second thoughts?"

"No, not at all." James pushed his glasses up against the bridge of his nose, studying her with a curious look on his face. "Why do you ask?"

How could she even begin to answer that question? Because Pamela was a literal monster? Because she's going to eventually kill him? Because it would save both their lives? As much as she wanted to scream all these answers out, Barbara settled for the one that wouldn't get her sent off to Arkham again. "Because if you are, it's not too late to call this off."

The corner of James's mouth tugged into a smile. "You know I can't do that, honey."

A strangled laugh bubbled up from deep in her stomach, one she was unable—and unwilling—to hide once it escaped her mouth. "Why not? No one will be upset. Okay, maybe some of the guests will blame you for wasting their time, but who cares about them? They're not the ones paying."

She placed her hand on his wrist, gently wrapping her fingers around his sleeve. Blinking back tears, Barbara looked up at her dad and mustered a smile. "You don't have to do this, Dad. I want you to know that."

A rush of warmth spread through Barbara's hand as James took it into his own. "You know, Bruce told me the same thing at the shower," he sighed. "I knew he was never fond of Pamela and thought I was rushing things even at the beginning. But I told him, 'you of all people should understand what it feels like to be alone.' Of course, he had no response to that."

"But I want to do this. I'm ready to be married again. Barbara..." Her dad squeezed her hand. "You might not understand this yet, but it's a terrible thing to be alone in the world."

If Barbara didn't know any better, she would've thought he was talking to himself—as if he were trying to convince himself that a wedding was the answer to his loneliness.

He reached out and wiped a stray tear off Barbara's cheek. "Besides, what would Pamela think? I couldn't do that to her. Not after how she's been on me for weeks to do this. It would break her heart and—"

Okay, that was just grasping at straws at this point.

"But you're not alone," Barbara assured him. "You have your squad. You have your friends. And most of all, you have me. I'm here for you. And as long as I'm here, you'll never be alone again."

James blinked at her, tears brimming in his eyes. "Barbara, I—"

"Knock, knock!" Harleen burst into the room. "I've been looking all over for ya'! C'mon, Barbara, it's time to get ya' all dolled up!"

"Yes, I'm coming." Yet, she made no attempt to turn around as she stared at her dad, awaiting his answer.

"Go on, Barbara." James gestured to the impatient blonde waiting by the door. "You don't have a lot of time."

If Barbara's heart was glass, then his answer was the rock that shattered it to pieces. So that was it then. He was really going to go through with it. For a second, she actually believed he was getting cold feet. That he could be talked out of it. For the briefest second, she tasted the sweet, irresistible flavor of hope on her tongue again.