She’s staring up at me, confusion in her gaze. “What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about you. And me.” I kiss her, and naturally she responds. I end the kiss before we get too carried away. “You don’t have to listen to every word your father says. His expectations on you are impossible to maintain.”
“But he’s my father,” she whispers. “I love him. Knowing I disappointed him just…it hurts. I don’t like it when he’s angry with me. He’s all I’ve got.”
He’s going to make her choose. Him or me. I can sense it.
I can also sense what her answer will be.
Fuck. That hurts.
“Well, what about me?” I ask her.
“And what are you to me? What am I to you?”
I remain quiet, my thoughts a confused jumble in my brain. I’ve been real with her so far. Admitting things I probably shouldn’t have, yet here I am. Opening up the veins and letting myself bleed.
“That’s what I thought,” she says when I still haven’t replied. The disappointment is written all over her face. “Maybe we moved too fast.”
“Is that what you really think? Or are you only saying that to make yourself feel better?” Shit, I don’t mean it. Yes, we moved fast. Too fast? I don’t know about that.
“I don’t know what to think!” she wails, more tears raining down. “I have to go. I can’t be late for class.”
She starts walking, leaving me where I stand. I watch her go, knowing I should chase after her. Yet I stay rooted in place.
Wren keeps going, never looking back, and I fight the anger that simmers just below the surface. How easily she walks away from me, as if I don’t matter. All she can think about is her father, and how she can’t disappoint him. His standards are impossible for her to meet. He wants her to be his little girl forever.
She’s my girl now. He needs to understand that.
So does she.
“Birdy!” The nickname bursts out of me, and she whirls around, her sad eyes meeting mine. “I want to see you when we’re in the city.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she says, loud enough for me to hear.
Loud enough to pierce my steel-walled heart.
I’m going to see her. Before her birthday. After. On New Year’s Eve. I’m going to make sure these next few weeks are good for her. Prove that I haven’t forgotten her like everyone else. When I said I was her friend, I meant it.
When I said I cared about her, I meant that too. No way can I lose her now.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I bring up my brother’s number and call him.
“What now?” Grant barks.
“I need your help,” I tell him, my voice dead serious. “Hopefully you can find it.”
“I can find anything you need, little brother,” Grant says with that Lancaster confidence we all have. “Tell me what you need.”
FORTY-FOUR
WREN
I’m a prisoner in my own home. Forgotten. Neglected. Daddy demanded I come home and I did as he asked, leaving Lancaster the moment I finished my history final. The second final scheduled was for psychology, and I already did my presentation with Crew, thank goodness. It was easy for Daddy to call into the administration office and have me excused early.
And now here I am, in the sterile apartment with my sterile parents. It’s only been a few days since I came home, and already, I’ve just become another piece of furniture. Or maybe I’m a painting hanging on the wall.
Pretty to look at. Enough to invest in. Otherwise, it doesn’t matter.
It’s Saturday, and I’m bored. Restless. I slept a lot the first couple of days. It was either that or cry, especially since my father took my phone away from me the moment I arrived. I can’t communicate with anyone.
Crew.
He probably hates me. Thinks I’m a little baby who can’t stand up for herself. I pretty much proved that by the dumb things I said to him when we got into that fight. Was it even a fight? I don’t know how to describe it. All I know is I’m devastated that it had to end like this. With my father witnessing the photos, seeing me lying there naked with Crew, even though nothing is shown in the photo.
It was so obvious though. The image is imprinted on my brain. I can see the way my head is lying on his bare shoulder, our lazy smiles and half-lidded eyes. My own naked shoulders, making it obvious I have no clothes on. The rumpled sheet beneath us.
I miss him. My heart aches to see him. Talk to him.
Yet, I’m trapped.