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A Mother's Priority | Chapter 4

the priorities of being a mother overrules the priorities of being the love of someone's life

By MelPublished 2 years ago 7 min read
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Tate pounded a fist into the wall just inches away from my cheek before stepping back and walking back into the kitchen to grab himself another beer bottle from the fridge, as if nothing else just happened.

"Tate." I spoke out. Fear flushed my cheeks as I looked back at him, afraid for how he could possibly react, "What the hell was that?"

"I cannot stand you sometimes."

"I was just asking you a question," I proceeded to say, "about your daughter."

"I told you I am too busy to handle that right now."

"You're her father!" I shouted at him, "She barely even knows you exist!"

He tossed his half filled bottle at the wall near my head, "Shut the fuck up."

I walked closer to him as I chose the next words of this battle, "Did I hit a nerve, Tate?"

"My daughter loves me." He pointed out.

"Your daughter?" I let out a laugh, "Now she's your daughter?"

"She's always been my daughter," He grabbed my wrists, holding onto them as my body was pressed up against his, "I'm still here, aren't I? Unlike your own piece of shit father, I stayed."

"Tate." I tried to squirm my way out of his grip but he wouldn't let go.

"You say my daughter barely knows I exist.. you say that I'm useless.. no good.. that I'm a worthless father," He said to me, "but I never fucking left."

"You're hurting me." I managed to get the words out.

He let go of my wrists, "I still fucking stayed."

"Alright," I said softly, "You stayed. Yes. You stayed with us."

"Don't you dare forget that." He pointed a finger at my face before grabbing ahold of me again, except this time he spun me around and held me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." I pressed my cheek up against his.

"I'm sorry," He repeated again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Tate." I chuckled.

He intertwined his fingers in mine, "Do you believe me?"

"Yes." I smiled. I didn't. Of course I didn't. The second he got pissed off again he'd just go back to how he was before, but I wasn't about to tell him that. He did have a point before. He stayed. He didn't have to stay. He could've walked out the second I told him about Lola's existence.. but he didn't. He stuck around. He became a dad. He stepped up. "I love you." I said to him.

He let go and walked towards the fridge, pulling out a beer and turning back to face me again, "Hi Lola."

"Daddy?" I turned to see my precious little girl standing at the edge of the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.

"What are you doing awake, baby?" I bent down to her height.

"She pissed herself." Tate said to me.

"Tate." I hated when he used that language around our little girl.

"You better go do something about that before she gets one of those rashes like she got when she was a baby." He took another swig of his beer.

Oh, you mean the rashes she always got whenever you would watch her? "Let's go get you into some new PJs." I smiled before holding out my hand for Lola to grab and walking her back into her bedroom.

"I want to wear my teddy bear ones." She said to me.

I chuckled, "Lola. You are wearing your teddy bear ones."

She looked down at her current pajamas, "Oh."

I opened up her drawer and pulled out an old shirt Tate gave to her a couple months back, holding it up for Lola to see, "Want to dress up like daddy for tonight?"

She got real excited, screaming yes almost instantly before I had to put my finger to my lips to remind her to hush. Tate hated when she got too loud, and although I understand that toddlers cannot control their volumes, I was certainly not going to see what could happen if Lola didn't follow his rules.

"Can I have a beer?"

My eyes shot towards Lola, "Can you have a what?"

"To be daddy," She said, "Daddy always has a beer."

I grabbed the shirt and knelt down to help her undress, "Sorry, honey. You can't have any beer."

"But daddy-"

"Daddy's a big boy. He can have a beer." I smiled at her.

"I can't?" She held her hands up so I can slip the shirt over her head.

"Not till you're a grown adult." I poked her nose before standing back up, "Go show daddy who you wanted to be. I'm going to change the sheets and I'll be right out to come get you."

**

"Alright Lola," I came out of her room, "You have new sheets on your bed and it's time to go back to sl-"

I came out of the living room to find both Tate and Lola passed out on the couch together; Lola curled up in his arms as the beer bottle he had been holding was spilled on the floor. Smiling, I took a blanket and covered them with it, standing over them with a smile plastered across my face. It was moments like this that made me glad that Tate stuck around. So that Lola could look back and remember the moments like this that she once shared with her father.

"Good night you two." I whispered as I continued to stare at them.

"I'm not asleep." Tate answered back, pushing the blanket off him so that Lola could have all of it.

"Oh.." I watched as he got up and headed back into the kitchen, "I just assumed-"

"Well I wasn't." He grabbed another bottle out of the fridge, "Lola just wanted to curl up with me and eventually fell asleep. That's all."

He said that like I'd be offended that she wanted to spend time with her father. "Don't you think you've had enough?" I pointed to the bottle in his hand.

"What are you, my mother?"

"No I just-"

"I can drink as much as I fucking want." He raised his voice a bit.

"Shh." I placed my finger to my lips, "Lola is literally sleeping right there."

"Come to the bedroom."

"Excuse me?"

He grabbed my hand, "Just come."

"Tate." I felt him pull me into the bedroom, only managing to stop him right before I got through the doorway, "Tate, don't do this."

He yanked at my arm, pulling me into the room with a sleazy smile spread across his face. He thrown me onto the bed before taking another chug from his bottle.

"Please just lay down," I tried to plead with him.

He began to unbutton his pants as his body swayed side to side, almost as if there was music playing. There was no music though.

"Tate." I grabbed his hands to try and pull him out of his drunken state, "Look at me, Tate."

He bent over me and pressed his lips against mine before I pushed him onto the bed, "Stop it." It wasn't the first time he's done this. Hell. I'm surprised Lola was an only child with the amount of times he's gotten this drunk.

"C'mon babe," He ran his fingertips along my arm, "have a little fun with me."

"Lola could walk in at any minute."

"Lola's asleep."

"She's a kid who is currently sleeping alone on the couch," I got up off the bed, "She really shouldn't be alone."

He wrapped his fist around my forearm before pulling me back down on the bed and getting on top of me, "She's fine. We're busy right now."

"Tate. Don't do this." I had no idea why I was begging him. It never stopped in the past. Why would now be any different? The only thing I could even think to do was close my eyes and think of something else; something that could take my mind off of this moment. Lola. My beautiful toddler. The fun activities she does every single day. The way she smiles. The way she sings all her favorite songs when she doesn't know what else to do. The way she dances around the house as she gets from one place to the other. My little girl. That's what all this is for. Her. If I let him take advantage of me, maybe he'll never see her as more than his little girl. His angel. That's the cost of being a mother. Doing things you dread in order to protect those the closest to your heart.

He said earlier that I should be glad he stuck by us through all these years.. that I should be glad that he became a father to that little girl. I should be glad. Glad to endure the pain that I do just so my daughter could have a good life with a happy little family. Glad to have to suffer just so my daughter can have the father I never had. Glad. Almost as if it had been such a burden to him; being a father. Had it been? If I never had Lola, would he have left already? Would I have bored him to the point where he would've just got up and walked away? I should be glad. Grateful, even. Without Lola, this would never be happening.

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About the Creator

Mel

Ever since I was a kid, I've always wrote for fun. I never saw anything of it; I just wanted to write just to write. That's why I love Vocal.

she/they

instagram: stufflestream

tiktok: mercuryandme

youtube: Melon Melon | TheMelonVlogs

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