Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(85)

“No, fuck you, Dad. You have no idea how much your choices fucked me up.”

“I realize that, but—”

“No, you don’t!” I’m yelling again. “Because I didn’t even realize until recently. I spent twenty-one years of my life chasing what you and Mom had, because I thought that’s what love, or soulmates, or whatever the fuck I thought you had, looked like. But when I found out that you were full of shit, I spent the last six years trying to find the opposite. Trying to find anyone that could prove to me that love existed because you single-handedly convinced me that it didn’t.”

I feel sick. Sick of him. Sick that I let his choices dictate my own. I was twenty-one years old, and he caused most of my world to fall apart, while I finished demolishing the rest. I ran away from it all and tried to pretend none of it ever happened. I swept it under the rug and tucked it away, only revisiting my issues when I revisited this neighborhood. Chicago was my clean slate.

“How could you do that to her?”

My words are quiet and though I’m asking him the question, it feels like I’m asking myself the same thing.

How could I leave Hallie behind like that? It wasn’t her fault that my dad blew up my family. It wasn’t her fault that his decisions had me questioning everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Rio, this is good. It’s good to hear you say these things. You’ve never told me how you felt. This is good to know so we can move forward.”

I scoff, tired of even talking to him. “You’re the last person I want to move forward with. I’m not telling you this for your benefit. I’m getting this off my chest for me.”

“Son, if I could go back in time, I would.”

“Well, you can’t.” I swallow hard. “And neither can I. You were supposed to teach me how to be a man, Dad, and I truly hate the things I learned from you.”

Before he can respond, I hang up the phone.

Fuck that. Fuck him.

Fuck me for being so emotionally wrung out at the time that I couldn’t see straight. That I couldn’t see who was truly at fault.

The front door of Hallie’s old house opens, and I swear I could throw up, that’s how sick I feel. I haven’t met the couple who moved in next to my mom, but still they offer me a polite wave as they take off on a walk, bundled up in their winter gear.

It’s wild to think they probably have no idea about the girl who grew up in that house. They have no idea I snuck through their upstairs window more times than I can count, or that their roof might be indented from how often we laid on it together.

And I threw it all away because I couldn’t see past my own hurt. Past my mom’s hurt.

I need to talk to Hallie. I have in no way apologized enough to her, and being back here only serves as a reminder that I’m the one who fucked up all those years ago. Not her.

She must have been so scared and I took it out on her.

On my phone, I find her number and call. It rings long enough that eventually, I’m pushed through to voicemail. I know she’s probably at the design firm, but I just need to talk to her.

I shoot her a follow-up text, asking her to call me when she can, before I gather myself and go inside.

Zee and my mom are sitting at the dining room table together, laughing about something, when I close the front door behind me.

Smiling, she looks over at me. “Honey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I shake my head, trying to shake it off. “Yeah, of course. What’s for lunch?”

“Let me make you a plate.” She’s up and out of her seat before I can tell her not to get up.

This is her love language, though. Feeding the people she loves. Having them in her home.

I follow her to the kitchen, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. “I love you. You know that, right?”

She chuckles, patting my back. “I love you too, Tesoro. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good.”

When I take a seat at the table, I can feel Zee watching me, but I don’t look in his direction. He clearly knows something is off, but I’m not going to get into it or talk about my dad while my mom is around.

I check my phone, finding no response from Hallie, when my mom sets a loaded plate down in front of me and then one in front of Zanders.

“Thank you, Ma. This looks great.”

She takes a seat and the three of us eat together. She catches me up on all the neighborhood news, Zee tells her all about the new things his daughter is learning, and I sit and listen, checking my phone every few minutes.

“Big night tonight,” my mom says. “Are you excited?”

I nod. “Uh-huh.”

“Everyone is coming. Your uncle Mikey is dropping by the house soon. He’s coming to the game too. The whole neighborhood has been talking about this for weeks. Imagine what it’s going to be like when you’re playing here. Hometown boy—”

“Ma.” My tone is sharp, cutting her off.

Her attention flicks between Zee and me when she realizes. “Oh.”

The house is silent, no one knowing how to shift the conversation with this giant elephant sitting in the room.

“I figured as much,” Zee eventually admits. “You didn’t sign your early extension, and there’s no reason for you not to unless you’re planning to leave.”