“Unless she wants the divorce, it won’t be happening.” He staggers to his feet, grabbing his ribs that I fucked up—good, maybe that way, he can feel a sliver of the pain I feel from his betrayal.
Maybe that way, he can understand what it feels like to be a horrible father for leaving my only daughter on her own.
If I hadn’t had that fucking accident, if I hadn’t made that call, I would’ve stopped this. I wouldn’t have allowed him to prey on my daughter.
Or allowed him to be near her.
I would’ve prevented this whole mess.
He pats my shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll talk later.”
“You get some rest and sort out your will, because I’ll kill you later.”
He says nothing as he struggles to open the door, then steps out. I follow after him because Gwen is waiting right outside. I saw the shadow of her feet as she kept pacing.
As soon as she sees him, she gasps, hands covering her mouth and tears glistening in her colorful eyes.
“Oh my God, Nate.” Her voice is brittle, chin trembling as she reaches a hand out for him.
“Gwyneth, come here. Now.” I don’t usually order her this harshly, and she knows that, too, because she startles, her hand falling to her side.
Nate nods at her and waits until she comes to me while he uses the wall for support to remain standing.
Gwen keeps staring at him, but I pull her inside and slam the door in his face.
Her gaze is shifty and she’s clinking her nails manically. Kids avoid their parents’ gazes when they’ve done something wrong, but Gwen has never been like that. She tells me head-on about her wrongdoings. She only ever avoids eye contact when she’s in pain and doesn’t want to show it.
Because it’d hurt me, too, and she’s said she never wants to be the source of my pain.
Until that fucker Nate played with her mind.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“Hurting you. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want to, but it’s not like I could choose, you know?”
“This isn’t your fault. It’s his for using you.”
Her head snaps up and the green in her eyes rushes forward. “No, Dad. No. He didn’t use me. Never. If anything, I made the first move, okay? I kissed him on my eighteenth birthday because I had this major crush on him that wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I told myself it was wrong. I even wrote the word crush on my list, but I couldn’t desensitize myself to him. Still, I tried, I really tried, Dad. I dated and went out. I forced myself to think of him less, but it became more. My feelings were unrequited for such a long time that I hated myself for having them. But you know what? I’m not going to apologize to you or him for the way I feel. I love him and it’s none of anyone’s business. It’s mine and I choose to have these feelings, Dad. I chose to love him. No one made me do it.”
She’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm, and a tear slides down her cheek.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
She’s too far gone for the motherfucker—whose death I will make the most painful possible.
“Gwen, Angel, listen to me. Those feelings could just be a manifestation of sentiments of your dependency because you only had him around when I was gone.”
“Can everyone stop using that word? It wasn’t dependency or neediness or a ruse of the moment. I’ve liked him since I was fifteen and those hormonal little girl feelings transformed into more. I liked him since I knew what liking someone means and it only grew deeper with time. I know what I feel more than anyone else, more than you and him, because unlike both of you, I’m not scared of my feelings. No matter how strong they are, no matter how overwhelming they get, I own them and wear them as a badge for the world to see. So don’t tell me I’m mistaking anything.”
My fists clench and I have this need to punch someone, Nate preferably. But I release them because she’s watching my hands with wild eyes.
The motherfucker was right. She is scared of me.
“I would never hurt you, Angel.” I try to soften my voice.
“You already did by hurting him, Dad.”
“So you’re taking his side now? First, he betrays me, then he touches you and now he turns you against me? What will it be next?”
“No, Daddy.” She wraps her clammy, trembling hands around mine. “I’m on both your sides. It kills me that you’re fighting. I can’t take it.”
“You can’t be on both our sides.”