28 October, 2025 @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2904 | Prompt: promise me this

Studying the intricately-lined, enticing brochure, I flipped the pages slowly to absorb the minor details. Those words in fine print others overlook, then complain later when things go haywire. So I was unaware of events unfolding behind me. Not one to go looking for trouble, I tried not to hear, but my ears pricked at the familiar gruff voice. From the words exchanged, a disgruntled man at the check-in counter.

And it wasn't any man.

It was him. His arms flailing as he bent over so close he could deliver a decent amount of disgusting tobacco-laced spit in the receptionist's face. There he remained for a long moment staring at the computer screen as if it were responsible for his dilemma. The noise instantly knotted my stomach and plunged my heart rate into overdrive.

The air floating throughout the hotel lobby was thick with amused embarrassment as I turned to verify what my instinct didn't want to acknowledge.

And in his usual blusterous and threatening, but harmless tone, he turned in my direction and hissed, "one of us won't be staying at this hotel tonight! Guess which one gets the lucky number."

Believing he was referring to me, from years of practice, I bolted from my chair. Only he had the ability to elicit such an immediate defensive response. In my mind, arsenic-laced darts pinpointed my location. Unnoticed by others, I dodged slightly, then jerked my head toward the commotion.

"And this was supposed to be an upscale vacation resort," I murmured. Absorbed in the man's antics, I'd overlooked the cause of the commotion until he pointed in the direction other customers were now staring. The entire hotel lobby pounced on the object of the man's fury. Slowly, my gaze traveled toward the opposite side of the lobby.

A young woman stood in the corner clutching a designer handbag with one hand and a large, round brimmed hat with the other, while casting a wide smile acknowledging she'd been spotted.

Instantly, I knew. She belonged to that man. And not in a proper way.

Realizing all eyes were focused on her, she released the hat, tossed her thick, cherry-blonde-dyed strands from side to side, flicked her extra long, perfectly manicured, red-colored nails in the man's direction, then turned, fluttered across the room, and plopped into a velvety lounge chair. Crossing her leg was the last effect. It showed more than anyone desired to glimpse.

It wasn't entirely her demeanor, but firstly, her age, perhaps a few years older than me, I surmised. Next, her clinging attire aimed to capture attention from anyone who cared to take it all in. With that red skirt so short she dared not bend over. But perhaps that was her intention.

That was when I realized without a doubt the person in the matching wide-brimmed hat causing the commotion and on the female's behalf was none other than the man who, on official documents, was designated as my father. And the person whose ridiculous cause he took up was exactly the type of individual who now held his interest that he pursued relentlessly.

It was in that moment that I wondered how he maintained the pace. But that was his doctor's concern; not mine. Just short of six feet, my father's occupation was former athlete. By the looks of his current physique, I surmised he'd long ago ceased any rigorous fitness program. His pot belly attested to that.

But what he lacked in external prowess, his bank account and medical prescription expenses probably compensated. I shook my head at the thought of living life daily in a tailspin solely to recapture youth's glory.

Somehow my father waddled across the room and stood squarely in front of me.

Clearly he was winded, but managed to gain a semblance of composure. Not even a greeting. The words rushed forth. "Do you have a room overnight here?"

Clenching my teeth, I didn't immediately answer, knowing it angered him.

"Well, do you?" he blustered, while his companion joined us. She possessed more sense than I gave her credit by remaining silent.

"Why?" I shot back. I was ready, casting a cool glance at his companion.

He studied my now calm face, unable to gauge my temperature. Thank God for my therapist. Allowing him access to my heart and thoughts would unravel all the therapy I'd reluctantly, but grateful afterward, undergone since middle school. Self-reflection combined with self-confidence is a cherished asset.

"Jesus. How long are you going to wallow in the past? You forget, Angeline," stressing my name as to imply the first part he loathed, "your mother and I have been separated for years. She lives her own life. I do the same. No harm. No foul."

"Except the children. Remember them." I ignored the sports talk. Geez, you're talking to your child, not your teammate.

"That's neither here nor there. Why keep dredging up the past?", was his attempt to impress the female. "What's done is over. Let's move on. You're grown now. You know how love plays out. Sometimes the flames stay lit, and sometimes it fizzles out. You seem to be no worse having gone through the ordeal. Probably made you a better woman."

On that I stepped back, my hands at her side, but fingers spread wide as if the next move was to ball and hurl them straight into his face. Or better still, pull off his toupee. For some reasons, numerous Propecia applications didn't solve his problems.

The anger had already flowed outward as my therapist taught. And on that thought, I suppressed the urge to giggle. Instead, I left him with a retort his companion could understand.

"Yes, I can readily detect scum men such as yourself."

My father, Adolphus Singleton, tried as best he could to hold back the redness about to douse his face in flames. But he couldn't. And it validated his position on the numerous infidelities that resulted in our torn, dysfunctional family.

But I'd diligently and patiently worked through it. No turning back.

"I won't allow you or anyone else to ruin our vacation. On that note, all I'm inquiring of you is whether you'll allow us to stay in your suite. Our reservation was mishandled, and no rooms are available. I'll sort it out in the morning."

Not desiring to be in the same space, I immediately responded, "I'll allow it as I'm due to meet with friends later and now may stay elsewhere, but promise me this. Not another disparaging and untruthful word against my mother in my presence, which won't be long."

I watched with a crooked smile. Adolphus' nostrils widened and brows began to dip into a deep scowl before catching himself.

And he couldn't help saying, "Just like your..." before trailing off, then continuing, "I pity the fellow who's unlucky enough to be ensnared by you."

"Well, if your young companion would like to hear the real truth about ensnaring, self-centered, narcissism, verbally abusive, deprivation, and abandonment". It was then I paused, eyed my father from head to toe with a sneer, then continued, "of this 'so-called man' she's keeping company with, we're on vacation in this lovely island."

"I've got plenty of time. In fact, twenty-two years worth tallied up."

For my theme, I was inspired by and utilized the Hive account@daily.prompt's publishing of 28 October 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2904: promise me this; and

27 October 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2903: one of us