Note: This story contains nonconsensual/reluctance on the first part. Please proceed with caution.
After her ten hours of work as a chef, Denise no longer had any energy left on her body. The room she was living in was a three-story apartment building on the last floor. She squeezed the last drop of her energy to walk up the stairs.
'I'm so tired,' she thought.
From her bag, she took the key to her apartment and unlocked the door. For a cheap rent, she was lucky that she found a clean space that she could live in. Although it was small and old, it was close to her workplace, which was why she chose to walk her way home to their apartment after her duty.
The problem was these past few days had been extra rough as there was a new building that was being built near to their apartment building. The noise from the working site easily penetrated the thin walls of their room. Fortunately, the noise in the evening decreased because neighboring buildings made complaints.
The lights were off when she stepped inside, so she turned it on, then took off her shoes and put them in the small cabinet behind the door.
When the landlord said that the rooms for these apartment buildings were small, it was true.
The kitchen was set up on the left side of the small hallway, while the bathroom and shower were located on the right side. There were only two windows in their room, the one in the kitchen and next to the bed, which was helpful to not trap the smell whenever they cook.
The space left served as the living room and bedroom. The bed was on the right side corner with a small bedside table next to it and an electric fan on the end. An old sofa was placed beside the wall of their bathroom and a coffee table in front of it. The closet was on the left corner. There was a second-hand T.V. fastened on the wall next to it. Well, most of the furniture in their room was bought in the Facebook marketplace.
It took the landlord an inspiration from the Japanese apartments that he had visited when he was in Japan. So although it was small, it was not cramped.
As Denise walked to the bedroom, she saw a familiar figure laying on the bed, her dad, Florence. He was soaking from his sweat as the electric fan was off. Not to mention that the summer heat made the temperature in the evening still high. She couldn't help but sigh at the sight of his state.
'He's drunk again,' she sighed mentally.
It had been three months since he had been like this, but she was not used and didn't want to. The image of her father before and after her mom ran away was drastic. It was like they were two different people, physically and behaviorally.
Because of the constant alcoholism, he forgot to take care of his health. His weight lessened and his hairs and beard grew longer. He was once very charming, always smiling. Now, he barely even looked at her. If not for her always checking if he eats his food, Florence might not even care to do it.
He was the one that people would remind them of sunshine.
What happened?
Her mom, Judith, took away all of their money from both his father's and the joint account with her. Her mom wasted all of their money through gambling. She was addicted and ran away. Even their house, which her father had worked hard for, was sold.
The only money left was Denise's. Since her mother had no hold of it.
How did this happen without them knowing? They trusted and loved her. Who would have known that she was lying whenever she went to work early in the morning and came back to cook for dinner? She acted as a loving wife and a caring mother to Florence and Denise.
It was no wonder that her father became like this, depressed and broken. The one he trusted the most left him and took everything from him, his love and his property.
The rumors spread so fast that it took one week before he decided to resign from his work because of the mocking of the employees under him who had been long jealous of his position. He was thankful that his boss gave him his last salary and didn't question his leaving.
The plan was to look for an apartment then find a suitable work after he settled but his daughter insisted on living with her. She said that she found a cheap apartment where they could live without worries of any rumors. So he did, for her sake and for his moment of peace.
He wanted to be reliable for his daughter. Although Denise was already twenty-four years old, she was very close to her family that even when she was living in her apartment; she was still going home from time to time.
She had to leave that old apartment because the rent was high. Thus, she looked for a good and cheap one, which was now where she and her father stayed.
As there was only a bed and a sofa in the apartment, her father insisted on sleeping on the sofa. Even after she convinced him to sleep with her on the bed, he refused, as his reason was to give her some personal space in the little room.
There was no room for privacy aside from the bathroom, so occupying more of her personal space for resting made him more guilty as a father.
All was getting smooth the days after settling. However, even how much Florence pretended to be okay, he couldn't.
He was unlucky that all the jobs that he had applied for rejected him.
That was the start of his continuous drinking every night. He wanted to drown himself in it to forget how much he failed as a husband and a father.
He never wanted to be a burden to his daughter.
Ironic.
To his guilt, he gave the rest of his last salary to Denise and kept a little for himself, which he reluctantly yet willingly used to buy alcohol.
To cheer her father up, Denise had an idea to let Florence meet some women from their neighborhood. This resulted in a quarrel between them.
Florence didn't want that idea, but when he saw how Denise wanted to make him feel better, he still considered and gave in.
As expected, none of the women really took his interest.
Denise's plan worsened his alcohol intake.
One night, Florence had drunk more alcohol than before. He had passed out on the floor next to the bed and was awoken by the sound of the door opening.
His mind was fuzzy, and his sight was blurry. As he looked at the silhouette of the familiar features of someone in front of him, he couldn't help but call the name of his wife.
"Judith."
Florence struggled to get up. The woman quickly supported him to stand up.
"Judith," he called once again.
The woman was about to speak but shunned by the cries of Florence as he hugged her tight.
"I miss you," he said between his sobs.
Although he was deeply hurt by his wife, he had never wanted or thought of any sort of revenge on her. He just wanted her to come back to her.
Pathetic, maybe.
Florence was truly in love with his wife.
"We could," he stopped because of a hiccup, "work this out, right?"
The woman tried to break free from his embrace. This made Florence think that she was refusing to come back to him, thus, he tightened his hold around her.
"Please, Judith," he pleaded.
"I need you."
He felt that she was no longer trying to push him away. He cupped her face with his shaking hands and was sure that she was his wife.
With the thought that he was given a chance, he narrowed the space between them to give her a kiss. However, he felt her backing away from him.
"Judith," he called as her action hurt him.
"I'm sorry. I'm probably stinky because of the alcohol."
"It's just... I miss you so much," he added.
For another time, he tried to kiss her. Although he felt that her body stiffened in his embrace, she didn't back away like earlier.
The moment their lips touched, Florence couldn't help but whip once again.
"I miss you, Judith. I love you so much."
He tried to part her lips open to deepen the kiss, but she wouldn't. So, he bit her lips, which let his tongue invade her mouth.
An erotic gasp escaped her lips, which made Florence kiss her more deeply.
His hands made their way through her body, down to her chest and down her back. Maybe because of the alcohol, he thought that her breasts were not as huge as he remembered, but he threw away those thoughts and enjoyed the heat of her body.
