Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I don’t know how to feel about that.
Dad shucks his jacket. I follow suit and hang both up in the coat closet. I’m stalling, trying to buy time. I don’t know what to say.
“Coffee?” I shut the door and face him.
Watching me with an inscrutable stare, he shakes his head. “I don’t need caffeine this late in the evening. But more than that, I don’t want to waste time. Nate and I haven’t been good friends in over a decade, but one thing I know? He never lets anything sit for long. He’ll be back sooner rather than later.”
I’ve only known Nathan for a few weeks, but I’m convinced Dad is right. “Let’s sit.”
When I direct my father to the living room, he plants in a chair and watches me sit on the edge of the sofa. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, precisely?” I’m glad Dad knows he screwed up, but I’m not sure he really comprehends that his actions affected my whole life.
“For not being around.” He huffs in frustration. “If I’d never gotten sick, if I’d never been forced to leave the country for months and months at a time—”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“No, but it’s the reason I was never there for you.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“It is. My cancer kept us apart.”
“I’m stunned and saddened that you endured such a serious health scare by yourself. I can’t imagine how terrifying, difficult, and lonely that was. My heart goes out to you. You forged on bravely, despite what I’m sure were some dark days where it would have been easier to give up.”
“Dark days, hell. Dark weeks. Dark months. Earlier this summer, I wasn’t responding to treatment at all. I thought I was going to die. It was—”
“Horrible in every sense of the word. I’m sure it put you in touch with your mortality far younger than you expected. But let’s be clear. You kept us apart.”
“Izzy—”
“You did. You didn’t have to go through any of that without me. You chose to. One phone call. One.” I hold up a finger. “And I would have been your sounding board. I would have cheered you on. I would have cried with you. I would even have come to Brazil to hold your hand. But you chose another man’s wife.”
“I didn’t want you to see me at my worst.”
“I appreciate that you wanted to shield me from your illness and deal with it in your own way.”
“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere.”
“But you shut me out. I was a child, and you never thought about my feelings and how your choices affected them. You didn’t grasp that I was growing up with not just a father, but a daddy.” I try to stop the emotions from pouring out, but there’s no holding my tears back. “After you left, I was crushed and confused. I had so many issues. So many questions. What did I do wrong? Was I such a horrible child that I drove you away?”
“Oh, kiddo. No. Of course not. It had nothing—”
“To do with me? As an adult, I understand. As a kid? I couldn’t begin to. Mom tried to explain that you leaving had more to do with her and the divorce, but those felt like kind lies. I was sure I’d been too mouthy, too difficult. I stopped speaking up and stopped fighting back. I stopped advocating for myself—in school, friendships, even work. I never wanted to rock the boat or drive people away.”
“You should never let anyone silence you.”
“No one was around to tell me that. You were gone. Mom was working multiple jobs to keep a roof over our heads. So I got quieter. That clamming up carried into my romantic relationships. I let my one and only boyfriend walk all over me for six years. He took me for granted and hurt my feelings all the time, but I let him because…what if he left me and I was alone again? Even the question made me panic.”
“You’re so sweet, and you grew up so beautiful. You never have to be alone, and you deserve someone who treats you like a queen. Someone who loves you. Never forget that.”
I do. I deserve someone who treats me like—
I shut down the thought. Nathan worshipped me because he wanted to lull me into his trap, not because I meant anything to him.
If that’s true, why did he bother retrieving your pendant after you were married? He had nothing to gain, except your heart…
“You can say that to me after you called me a whore?”
“I didn’t say you are one. I just hate that you allowed Nate to”—Dad winces—“use you for his nefarious bullshit. And that was my anger talking. I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe you see me as deserving, but after you walked out, I felt unworthy. And so alone. It scared me. So I let my ex say and do horrible things to me. I grinned and bore it because I was afraid he’d abandon me.”