Scars of his father

Chapter 6 THE WOMAN WHO NEVER STOPPED

Selma nodded his head at the sound of laughter coming from inside the house again but this time it wasn’t Matilde alone, it was deeper. Like someone who had been there before. His fingers tightened around the iron gate as he stood outside the compound, rainwater dripping from his soaked uniform onto the dusty ground.

The front door wasn’t fully closed, It was slightly open just enough for voices to escape. Selma stepped closer slowly, The living room light spilled onto the porch inside, Matilde’s voice floated out, soft and playful.

“You always exaggerate.” A man chuckled.

Selma’s stomach tightened instantly, He recognized that tone not again he pushed the door open just slightly. The first thing he saw was Matilde sitting comfortably on the couch.

Her legs crossed, A glass of wine in her hand and she looked relaxed across from her sat a man Selma did not know who’s well dressed and clean shoes, expensive wristwatch glinting under the light.

His father’s place on the couch once sacred was now occupied by someone laughing freely inside it. Selma stepped inside without making a sound and the man said something low and Matilde laughed again, leaning slightly toward him.

“Rafael works too much,” she said casually. “He doesn’t understand how to enjoy life.”

Selma’s chest tightened painfully at the sound of his father’s name on her lips, like she was speaking about a stranger and the man sipped his drink.

“Well, some men are built like that.” Matilde smirked, “Built like what? Burdens?”

Selma felt his hands curl slowly into fists. The air inside the house felt wrong, too polished and clean like his father had never existed here.Then Matilde noticed him Her expression changed instantly.

“You’re back early,” she said flatly. Selma didn’t answer.

His eyes stayed fixed on the man sitting in his father’s seat, The man smiled awkwardly “Oh you must be Selma.” but Selma said nothing.

Matilde waved her hand slightly. “Go to your room.” Selma didn’t move. the man cleared his throat. “I should probably go.” Matilde shrugged.

“If you want.” The ease of it made Selma’s stomach twist violently, this wasn’t new and it wasn't even hidden anymore. The man stood up, adjusting his shirt as he walked past Selma, he hesitated slightly.

“You’re a quiet kid,” he said awkwardly.

Selma didn’t blink, the man left quickly after that the door clicked shut, But it feels heavier now. Matilde stood and stretched her arms lazily.

“You should close the door properly next time,” she said.

Selma finally spoke, “Where is Dad’s chair?” Matilde paused then glanced at the empty spot on the couch.

“Oh that?” She shrugged “I moved it. It was in the way.”

Something inside Selma snapped quietly and not visibly, just a silent fracture deep in his chest. “You moved it,” he repeated “Yes.” Selma’s voice dropped lower.

“That was his seat.” Matilde sighed dramatically. “Selma, don’t start.”

He stepped forward slightly. “For how long?” She frowned “What?” “How long has this been happening?” Matilde’s eyes narrowed.“That’s none of your business.” Selma’s breathing deepened. “You said it was one mistake.”

Then Matilde laughed softly, “Oh so you’ve been counting?” That laugh hit harder than anything else, Selma felt his throat tighten “You lied to me,” he said quietly.

Matilde walked toward the kitchen, uninterested. “I didn’t lie. I protected you from adult nonsense.” Selma followed her, “Dad doesn’t know.”

She stopped and slowly turned. Her face sharpened. “You are not to speak about your father like that.” Selma flinched slightly but didn’t stop. “He trusts you.”

Matilde exhaled sharply, “Trust is not my problem.” Selma stared at her and the woman in front of him did not look ashamed, Not even slightly.

Rather she looked irritated like he was disturbing her peace, “Why?” Selma asked quietly but Matilde blinked.

“Why what?” “Why do this?”

For a moment, something flickered across her face just a flicker then it disappeared. She leaned against the kitchen counter. “Because your father cannot give me the life I want.”

Selma stared at her, “That’s it?” Matilde nodded “That’s it.” The simplicity of it made his chest ache.

Rain began falling harder, Selma’s voice trembled slightly “He works every day.” Matilde rolled her eyes. “And still nothing changes.” “He comes home tired.”

“So?” “He cries.”

That last word landed in the room heavily, Matilde paused just briefly then shrugged again. “Men cry all the time,” she said dismissively. “It changes nothing.”

Selma stepped back slightly, Something cold spread through his chest. “Do you even care?” he asked. Matilde looked at him for a long moment. then answered honestly “No.”

The word didn’t carry anger, or shame , just truth. Selma felt like the floor shifted under him, for years, he had believed maybe it would stop Maybe she would change.

Maybe something would fix itself but now nothing. Matilde picked up her wine glass again. “Go wash up,” she said calmly. “And don’t tell your father anything unnecessary.”

Selma stood still, rain outside grew louder. Then slowly, he spoke again “If Dad dies will you care?” Matilde stopped drinking.

For the first time, her expression changed, “Don’t say stupid things.” Selma didn’t move. “Answer me.” Silence filled the room, Matilde placed the glass down slowly, then walked closer.

Her voice dropped, “If your father dies, life continues.” Selma’s lips parted slightly but no words came out, Matilde stared at him.

“And so will you.” Something inside Selma broke quietly again, Matilde turned away “Now go.”

Selma didn’t move for several seconds then finally, He walked past her toward his room and each step felt heavier than the last. Behind him, Matilde continued sipping her wine as if nothing had happened.

As if she hadn’t just buried something inside her son, And in that moment Selma understood something terrifying.

His mother wasn’t just betraying his father but she was living peacefully inside the destruction.