I hesitated. “Yeah. First time living away from home, so…”
His brow lifted. “Never mentioned your dad before. You don’t like the guy?”
I swallowed, glancing down at my hands. “I don’t really remember my biological dad. He walked out when I was three. My stepdad… he provided, but I wouldn’t call him afather.”
Robert nodded again, his gaze unreadable, like he was piecing something together.
Like he knew something I didn’t.
“Alright, kid, let me share a little wisdom from an old man. If you marry for the outer fairytale—the glitz, the glam, the picture-perfect moments—you’ll feel empty sooner or later. That kind of love fades, slipping through your fingers like sand. But if you marry someone who gives you the inner fairytale—someone who loves you the way they love to breathe, as if you are the air they need to survive—then you’ve got something real. Something that lasts. And if that’s the love you’ve found, trust me, you’re doing just fine.” A radiant smile spread across my face as a surge of warmth flooded my chest, wrapping around me like a cherished embrace.
“Thank you, Rob. I think I have.”
43
MELANIE
Ilooked over at my mom, and she took a swig of her flask, and for a second, I saw myself in her. I didn’t want to end up like my mom. If I followed anything she said, that’s the path I was on, right down the road of destruction.
The car ride home was silent except for my mother’s occasional hiccup and the engine’s soft hum. I gripped the steering wheel, my fingers white-knuckled against the leather. The city lights blurred past, neon smearing across the windshield as I navigated the late-night traffic. Next to me, my mother slumped against the door, her head lolling, mascara smudged under her eyes. She reeks of vodka and expensive perfume—the kind she used to save for special occasions. Now, it clung to her skin like a second layer of regret.
“I don’t wanna go back to your house,” she mumbled, voice thick and slurred.
“You don’t have a choice, Mom.” I keep my eyes on the road, my jaw clenched. She laughs, but it’s brittle, hollow.
“You sound like him.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. “Don’t.”
She shifts in her seat, eyes fluttering open just enough to lookat me. “You do, though. Bossing me around like I’m some helpless little thing. You think I don’t know how pathetic I am?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I never said that.”
She scoffs. “You don’t have to.”
The street lights flicker through the car, illuminating her face in brief flashes. She used to be beautiful—sharp cheekbones, bright blue eyes, the kind of woman who turned heads when she walked into a room. But now, there’s a hollow space where that woman used to be. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the truth that gutted her.
“I tried, you know?” she whispers.
“I tried so hard to be better. For you. For me. I spent years clawing my way out of that bottle, and then…” She trails off, shaking her head.
And then she found out. About Richard. About what he did to me.
I take a shaky breath, my hands aching from how hard I’m holding onto the wheel.
“Drinking won’t fix it. I’ve learned that much by being sober myself.”
“I wasn’t that bad tonight,” she mumbles, slurring the words together.
That made me flinch, but I forced myself to stay calm. I swallowed hard, keeping my voice steady.
“You promised me, Mom.”
She scoffs, low and bitter. “Yeah, well. Promises don’t mean much, do they?”
I know what she’s thinking about. The man she married. The house she fought so hard to keep. The lie she lived in for years until everything cracked open. She loved him. Or maybe she just loved what he gave her—stability, security, a life she never thought she’d have. And then she found out what he did to me. Now, she drinks. I tighten my grip on the wheel.
“You’re not the one who should be drowning, Mom.”
