“I am a firm believer that everything will work out how it was meant to,” Deryke says. “Even if all the pucks do not line up in a perfect row. You win and you lose, but at the end of the day, you will have the future that you were always meant to.”
“I understand that isn’t supposed to sound dooming, but I feel a chill,” I deadpan.
He grins. “You are a good person, Laiken. I do not believe you have doom in your future. Even if some of your pucks are way out of place and in the wrong zone.”
I snort. “Good to know.”
“I will also say that I may understand that Nason is upset, and yes, perhaps he should be. But it’s the mark of a really shitty person to say some mean things to hurt the other person just because they’re upset. If he does not understand that this hasnothing to do with him and isn’t a direct attack on him, I would seriously question his character.”
I nod. He isn’t wrong. I’ve been thinking this in a roundabout way for the past few days. This isn’t the Nason I’ve always known. Not the man I’ve loved as my best friend, closer than a sibling, for three-quarters of my life.
I don’t know this man, and quite frankly, I don’twantto know this man. Even if he forgives me, I’m not sure I can forgive him for the shit he accused me of. That’s just bullshit, and we both know it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
LIE
“Is that why you work there?”Dad asks. I barely recognize his voice these days. It’s always angry. Always barely not yelling. “So you can fuck around with my best friend behind my back?”
His words hurt. But I’m tired of crying. So I snap back.“Youforced me to take that job! Or did you forget that?”
“Yes, take the job, so you’re fucking working, Elijah. Not take the job on your knees. There’s a difference.”
For once, my mother has been absolutely silent. She watches us, eyes moving between us, unsure what to do or say.
“You know what? Fine. I quit. There you go. If that’s what you think I do at work, then fine.”
“You can’t just quit.”
“I’ve quit for actual legitimate reasons for a long time. I can totally go out on a bullshit one that my dad is being an asshole and doesn’t want to me work at the bar where his best friend does because he’s too blind with his own anger to listen to a fucking thing we’re trying to tell him.”
“You’re right. This is my fault. I pushed you to work with Laiken and you both somehow interpreted that as to mean you can fuck around. My fault. So sorry.”
I’m not sure I even recognize my dad anymore. This isn’t the man who used to read me the newsletter when I was younger, taught me to swim, or would spend hours in the yard with me, laughing about whatever.
I don’t know this one. This one makes my heart hurt.
When I feel tears sting my eyes, I turn for the door. I won’t let him see me cry anymore.
“Where are you going?”
“To quit. That’s what you want, so that’s what I’m doing.”
“What I want?—”
“I’ve reached my limit of giving you what you want,” I yell. I throw the door open so hard that it hits the wall and bounces back. I catch it and wince with the pain that ricochets through my arm. “You know what I want? I want my fucking dad back. And if he’s not coming back, then I would much prefer if you go back to pretending I’m not alive. That was far more preferable to the shitty things that come out of your mouth now.”
I don’t wait for him to answer as I yank the door shut behind me. It gives a satisfyingSLAM, and I think I even hear the windows rattle. Good. Maybe I broke one. I wipe my eyes and storm across the yards.
I don’t knock when I reach Laiken’s front door. With frustration, I shove it open and then close it again. While it’s not nearly as satisfying as listening to it slam, I flip the lock and then glare when it doesn’t echo off the walls in a loud statement.
I want to scream.
Instead, I jump when Laiken wraps around me, hugging me to his chest. It dislodges the tears, but I only allow myself a short moment. He doesn’t deserve my tears. I didn’t do this to attackhim. I didn’t steal his best friend. Ididn’tget on my fucking knees for him.
I sat in a damn chair like a gentleman!
My breath is heavy and loud as I take several to clear my head. “Sorry,” I whisper.
