Embarrassing.
It’s going to take me a while to forgive him for that.
“I’m going to see Crew.” I stand up straighter, practically daring him to tell me I can’t.
His mouth thins into a firm line and he just stares at me for a moment. As if he can’t believe this is what I’ve turned into.
“We’re going on that trip.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You and Mom can go. I’m not.”
“I already paid for your ticket.”
“Well, ask for a refund. I don’t want to go. You can’t make me. I’m going to be eighteen in a few days. An adult.” I lift my chin, hoping he doesn’t see how this confrontation is making me shake.
He looks furious. I don’t do this—defy him. Ever. “You still live under my roof.”
“I’ll go live with someone else then, until I have to go back to school. I don’t really live here anyway.” I try to push past him, but he stops me, his fingers circling around my upper arm, keeping me from escaping.
“Who would you go live with, hmm? That supposed boyfriend of yours?”
I try to jerk out of his hold. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You two are just fucking then? Is that what he tells you? He’s only using you. And you’re letting him.”
My father’s eyes lock with mine and I physically recoil, desperate to get away from him. Why is he acting like this? Saying such awful things?
“You changed your iCloud password because you’ve got something to hide,” he continues. “I thought I raised you better than this.”
“It’s not that I have anything to hide, it’s that you don’t trust me so you think it’s okay to invade my privacy! That’s not right.”
“I am your father. I can do whatever the hell I want. I made you.”
I jerk out of his hold, right as my mother appears in the hallway.
“What in the world is going on?” She is so calm. Like ice. Impenetrable.
“I’m leaving.”
“Going to the Lancaster residence?” When I nod, she smiles. “Have fun, darling. Don’t stay out too late.”
Daddy is gaping at her like a dying fish, his mouth opening and closing as if he can’t find the right words. “You’re just going to let her—leave?”
I march past him, stopping to give Mom a brief hug before I keep walking.
“You need to stop treating her like a little girl, Harvey. I’ve already told you this. The tighter you hold onto her, the more you’ll make her run,” I hear her say.
She’s so right. He keeps holding me too tight.
And I keep wanting to run away.
FORTY-EIGHT
WREN
I ignore my father the best I can for the rest of the week, which is…awful. It’s almost Christmas and my birthday, and I should be happy. Eager to spend time with my family and friends—well, Maggie—and creating new memories.
And while I am happy with certain aspects of my life, my relationship with my father is not one of them.
He cancelled the trip to Aruba with Mother’s encouragement. Instead of taking the next two weeks off as he originally planned, he’s back at the office, which means I don’t have to sneak out of the house when I want to leave, which is a relief. And I’m not just seeing Crew either. I also got together with Maggie on Tuesday. We met for lunch and she told me how she ended up having a miscarriage, tears streaking down her face when she told me.
My heart broke for her, but deep down, I wonder if she was relieved. At least she’s not forever tied to the man who manipulated and molested her.
If I’m not sleeping, or spending time with Mom or Maggie, I’m with Crew. Which means I’m with him almost every single day, and it’s wonderful. Perfect. We already used up all the film that came with my instant camera. I have a ton of photos of Crew with lipstick prints all over his chest and back. I took a couple of selfies with him of me kissing his cheek, my lips vibrant with color. He’s sent me a Chanel lipstick every day this week. My mother has enjoyed the gifts too, bringing them to me each time with anticipation dancing in her eyes. Pretty sure she thinks he’s worth keeping.
I feel the same way.
I’m with him now, and we’re shopping in midtown, strolling past the luxury designer shops, me having to stop and look in every single window, marveling at the gorgeous Christmas displays. Some of the stores are even worthy enough for me to walk into, though I really don’t want anything.