Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Because I’d never had to experience that.
Things always worked out for me because my parents were there, ready to catch my fall or solve any of my problems. Even with the whole Zach fiasco, part of me had known deep down they’d probably take me back.
But their purse strings went both ways. I couldn’t take their help and then expect them to stay quiet about how I lived my life.
It was time to be a fucking adult and start doing things for myself.
“I’m not asking you to apologize.” My mother’s face softened. “I’m just asking you two to talk to each other. You used to be so close, and I hate this tension.” She sounded like she was nearly beside herself. “You know your father and I love you so much, Charlotte. Your happiness is the only thing that matters to us.”
I believed her, but I was too wounded to say anything. Yes, Noah had chosen to abandon me, but it was my father’s ultimatum that had rushed him into making that decision. So, while I wasn’t as mad at my father as I was at Noah, my dad wasn’t blameless.
My mom must have thought I was unconvinced, because her eyes began to water with tears. “Please talk to him. For me.”
I pushed away my emotions, trying to stay detached, and pulled in a breath to even myself out. “Okay.”
She nodded and sniffled, sucking back her tears. When she picked up the spoon and returned to stirring the spaghetti, her shoulders didn’t seem quite as heavy, like my agreement had lifted a weight off her.
I was glad she was relieved, but I didn’t see the point of talking to my dad. He was upset and stubborn, and in the unlikely event he saw reason and said all was forgiven, that he was okay with me dating Noah—it didn’t matter.
Noah didn’t want me.
Being with me was a waste of time, he’d said, after all.
His words had crushed me to the point it’d been hard to leave Warbler and walk to my car without sobbing. I spent a long time sitting in the driver’s seat of my Yaris, with tears rolling down my cheeks, trying to figure out how it had all gone so wrong.
He’d warned you this would happen, a shitty voice reminded me.
When the tears drained out of me, it made room for anger to take its place. I’d needed to do something, to take back some control. It was stupid and maybe immature, but I wanted to act like the careless way Noah had tossed me aside hadn’t gotten to me.
It felt so fucking good to block his number and his socials, to pretend he didn’t exist. I didn’t want to see him again. To ever think about him again.
Too bad my mind and my heart wouldn’t let me.
The following evening before dinner, I tracked my dad down in the living room. The TV was on, but, as usual, he wasn’t paying any attention to it. His focus was on the tablet in his hands, reading his emails. When I approached and my shadow fell over him, he lifted his gaze and looked cornered.
“Do you have a minute?” I asked but didn’t wait for a response. I plopped down on the couch beside him.
He put down his iPad and his expression was plain, announcing, let’s get this over with.
“Mom asked me to talk to you.” I crossed my arms over my chest, although I hadn’t meant for it to look confrontational. I felt awkward and didn’t know what to do with my hands. “I’ve got to admit, at first, I didn’t want to. But now I think it’s good because there’s something I need to ask you.”
He looked worried, like he had no idea what might come out of my mouth. “What is it?”
“You need to know my happiness these last few months wasn’t just from being with Noah. Sure, he was a big part of it, but I also . . . I don’t know.” But I did know. “I feel like I’ve finally found my purpose.”
“Your purpose.” He repeated it almost like a question.
“Yeah. I started my cleaning channel as a side thing. It was just supposed to be fun, but it’s grown, Dad. It’s like a full-blown business now, and for the first time ever, it feels right. Like this is what I’m supposed to be doing.”
His eyebrows pinched together. Maybe he was thinking he’d heard a version of this spiel before, when I’d asked to go to college, but couldn’t he see how different this was? How different I was?
Before, I’d been coasting through life, and I’d known that college was the answer he’d wanted to hear. So I’d offered it up, hoping it would work out, even when I doubted it was what I really wanted.