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The narrator is afraid her husband is like her father. |
She grew up living in fear. When would her father come home? Would he be drunk? Would he be angry? Who would he hit tonight? Of course, he’d never dream of hitting his family if he wasn’t drunk. It was unfortunate, then, that he was rarely sober. She said she’d never marry somebody like her father. She had the perfect man, nothing like Daddy Dearest at all. He was in the army—which her father was too, but that was okay. That was honorable—noble. “We won’t be your parents, sweetheart.” Of course, he would say that. He said it was his primary duty to make her feel safe. The war ended. He finished his contract and joined the Reserves. He would be happier on Active Duty. They both knew that. He said he was ready to wake up next to her every morning. He started drinking. She pretended not to notice, and they continued with their wedding plans. She hadn’t spoken to her father since she moved out, but she wanted a perfect church wedding, with Daddy Dearest walking her down the aisle, so she made contact again. “I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” Her father said when she called. He was sober. “Of course, Daddy. I love you.” Of course, she forgave him. Of course, she loved him. Her perfect fiancée was with her when she reunited with her father for the first time. “I’m scared.” She whispered. She needn’t be, though. He was sober. They met, and kept meeting. She would get her perfect wedding. She confronted her perfect fiancée about his drinking. He said he was fine, and she dropped it. She didn’t feel safe. They got married, and her father walked her down the aisle to her perfect husband. He wasn’t drunk today. She stayed connected with her father. People change. Then he got angry. He hit her, sober. She screamed, and her imperfect husband came running to her side. He locked the door behind her father and found her sitting on the couch, sobbing. Was she so gullible to think that people could change that much? Her imperfect husband knelt in front of her, watching and not touching. She looked at him. “I’m scared.” “I’ll protect you.” “Can you from yourself?” “It won’t come to that.” “You drink too much.” “We’re not all like him.” “Aren’t you?” “No.” “You can be.” “I won’t.” |