And it was far worse than anything I could have imagined.
“It felt like time,” Dad said with a shrug, finally looking up. “Listen, girls, I’m really sor?—”
“Don’t.”
June cut him off with a glare sharp enough to kill. She reminded me of herself as a child, just before she stomped her foot.
“You lied to us our entire lives. Poor Riley doesn’t even know who she is anymore. Do you know what that can do to a person?”
Dad sat on the couch, his pain visible on his twisted features. I couldn’t take it. I hated what he’d done, but just as I felt withJune, I couldn’t hate him. He had lied my entire life, yes, and my future therapy bill would be astronomical. But I couldn’t hate him for saving me from that place. I didn't know who I was, but I was still here. If I died, there would be someone to claim my body. There would be people at my funeral.
“It’s okay, June.”
I held onto my fierce sister’s arm. She really was like a pitbull—my protector. My chest ached with love for the role she’d stepped into without either of us realising. She looked at me then, her red-rimmed eyes full of fear. She didn’t know what this meant for us either.
I blew out a long breath. “We can get through this.”
It didn’t feel like a lie when I said it, even though I had no idea how.
I thought of everything we’d already endured.
Losing Mum. Well—Mum’s, plural.
The children’s home.
Josh’s death.
Each time, we’d adapted. Survived. And we’d do it again.
We were all here—less than twenty-four hours after hearing devastating news. That had to count for something.
If we didn’t care about each other, we wouldn’t be angry. Or hurt. Or betrayed.
We’d feel nothing.
“I know you’re sorry, Dad,” I whispered, barely getting the words out as I looked at him sitting on the edge of the couch. The guilt on his face was unmistakable. I wished I could make him feel better, but I didn’t have anything left to do that with. I was too angry. Betrayed. That ratty part of me that always knew she wasn’t good enough for the world felt validated and so deeply rejected.
“Everything’s in there,” he dipped his head in the direction of the envelopes in my hand. I nodded back and wiped my noseon the back of my arm. I was definitely channelling broken cup again today. Giving dad’s pained face a last look, I turned on my heel to go. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
“Please still let me be your dad,” he blurted out. I froze, letting his cracked words wash over my back. I desperately wanted my dad—but it was too early to override the pain. Maybe one day.
I wouldn’t offer false hope. He didn’t deserve that kindness.
Instead, I let guilt rise again as I slipped out the door, letting June close it behind us.
God damn empathy.
Why couldn’t I just be angry?
It would be so much easier if I didn’t feel sorry for him too.
“What are your plans now?” June asked, inspecting the empty cigarette box in her hand as we stood at the back of her black Jeep.
Strangely, I felt clear.
“I’m going to read this,” I said, lifting the weighty packet in my hand. “And then I’m going to yoga.”
I was clearly losing my mind.
