Scars of his father

Chapter 3 THE DAY HIS FATHER BROKE

Selma stood up when he heard his father’s voice outside the front door.

“Matilde?”

The shopping bag slipped from Selma’s hands instantly. Tomatoes rolled across the kitchen floor, Inside the bedroom, the laughter died, the entire apartment froze.

Selma stood near the counter with wide eyes while Matilde jerked upright from the bed. Beside her, the half dressed man cursed under his breath and scrambled for his trousers.

Rafael was not supposed to be home, not this early, never this early. Another knock landed against the softer door this time.

“Matilde?”

Panic flashed across the room like lightning. Matilde jumped off the bed, tightening the bedsheet around her chest while glaring at the man beside her. “Hide,” she hissed.

The man grabbed his shirt from the floor hurriedly. “Hide where?” Selma’s pulse hammered violently in his ears.

The bedroom smelled heavily of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. The air itself felt dirty.

Another knock came, this one firmer. “Open the door.” Rafael sounded tired, completely unaware. The man finally rushed toward the bathroom while Matilde fixed her hair shakily before storming toward the living room.

Selma remained rooted beside the kitchen entrance. His hands trembled. The front door opened. Rafael stepped inside carrying a small paper bag and a loaf of bread tucked beneath his arm.

For a moment, he smiled, a weak smile. “Tire burst near the workshop,” he said while shutting the door behind him. “So they asked us to close early.”

Then he noticed her face, the smile disappeared immediately. Matilde folded her arms tightly. “You could’ve called first.” Rafael frowned slightly.

“I forgot my phone charger.” Silence, the tension in the apartment thickened instantly. Rafael’s eyes moved slowly across the room, the untouched food.

The second drinking glass on the table. The men’s shoes beside the couch. Selma watched the realization begin creeping into his father’s face piece by piece, like watching someone drown slowly.

Rafael’s grip tightened around the bread. “Who’s here?” he asked quietly, Matilde answered too quickly. “No one.”

The bathroom door clicked softly. Everyone heard it. Rafael turned toward the hallway. Selma saw the exact moment his father’s world cracked open.

Rafael didn’t move at first, didn’t blink either. He simply stared toward the hallway while all the color slowly drained from his face.

Then the bathroom door opened, the man stepped out awkwardly while buttoning his sleeve. Silence exploded inside the apartment. Nobody spoke, nobody breathed.

The stranger looked everywhere except at Rafael. Matilde lifted her chin stubbornly, Selma’s chest hurt so badly he thought he might collapse.

Rafael stared at the man, then at Matilde. Then finally at Selma, The loaf of bread slipped from beneath his arm and hit the floor softly, nobody moved to pick it up.

“You” Rafael’s voice cracked slightly. He swallowed hard before trying again.“You bring men here now?” Matilde rolled her eyes instantly.

“Don’t start.”

Rafael looked at her as if he no longer recognized her. “In our home?”

The stranger cleared his throat awkwardly, “Look, man.” Rafael raised one shaking hand immediately. Not violent, not aggressive, Just broken “Please,” he whispered.

The man fell silent, Rafael’s eyes returned to Matilde slowly. And then came the question that shattered something inside Selma forever.

“You do this in front of our son?” The pain in his voice sounded unbearable, raw animal.

Selma felt goosebumps crawl over his skin. Matilde scoffed loudly. “Oh stop acting innocent, Rafael.” “In front of him?” Rafael repeated weakly. His eyes looked wet already, Matilde folded her arms.

“Maybe if you acted like a proper husband, I wouldn’t need attention elsewhere.”

The words hit the room like bullets. Rafael physically flinched. Selma saw it, saw the damage.the stranger finally grabbed his keys from the table.

“I should leave.” Nobody answered him, He moved toward the door quickly, avoiding Rafael’s eyes completely before disappearing outside, the door clicked shut.

Silence swallowed the apartment whole. Rafael still hadn’t moved, he looked at Matilde like a man standing inside a nightmare.

“When did this start?” he asked quietly, Matilde shrugged “Does it matter?” Selma’s stomach twisted violently. How could she sound so calm?

Rafael laughed suddenly, a terrible laugh. His hand moved to his mouth as though he couldn’t breathe properly. “I work every day,” he whispered. “Every single day.”

“You barely survive every day,” Matilde snapped back. “There’s a difference.” Rafael shook his head slowly.

His voice cracked again. “No, Matilde.” Selma had never seen his father look this helpless before, not once.

Rafael rubbed both hands over his face roughly. His shoulders trembled, “You couldn’t even wait until he was older?” Matilde looked irritated now instead of guilty.

“Oh please. Stop making everything dramatic.” Rafael stared at her.

Then suddenly tears filled his eyes completely. Selma froze, His father had always been quiet, gentle but never weak.

Rafael’s breathing became uneven. One tear slid down his face, then another. He covered his mouth quickly as though ashamed of the sound trying to escape his throat.

But it came anyway, a broken sob. Selma’s chest tightened painfully, the sound did not feel human. It sounded like something dying slowly.

Matilde looked away in annoyance, Rafael cried openly now. Standing there in his dusty work clothes while tears ran helplessly down his face, Selma could not look away.

Could not move, the strongest person in his life was collapsing right in front of him and nobody was helping him. Rafael wiped his face roughly.

“I loved you,” he whispered, Matilde laughed bitterly, “Love.”

She shook her head, “That word never paid rent.” Rafael lowered himself slowly onto the couch like his legs could no longer carry him, His breathing remained shaky.

Selma stared at him helplessly, he wanted to say something but the words refused to come out. Rafael suddenly looked toward his son.

Their eyes met, the shame inside Rafael’s face nearly destroyed Selma. Not anger, not hatred, Shame.

As if he had failed as a father simply because his son witnessed this moment. “I’m sorry,” Rafael whispered. Selma felt tears sting his own eyes instantly.

Matilde scoffed again, “You should be apologizing for years of suffering.” Rafael looked down at his trembling hands.

And something inside him seemed to disappear completely. Selma saw it happen: The surrender.

Slowly, Rafael stood back up. Without another word, he walked toward the bedroom. A few seconds later, Selma heard drawers opening quietly.

Then the sound of glass bottles clinking together. When Rafael returned, a half full bottle of whiskey hung from his fingers, Matilde frowned.

“Oh great. Now you want to become a drunk too?”

Rafael didn’t answer, he walked past both of them toward the front door. Selma finally found his voice.

“Dad.”

Rafael paused, but he never turned around. For several long seconds, he simply stood there with one hand gripping the doorknob tightly, then quietly.

So quietly Selma almost missed it. Rafael spoke, “I don’t think I can survive this house anymore.” and then he walked out.