Topher’s quiet for a moment. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Does he love you?”
“Maybe. I hope so.”
“Then he’ll come back.” Topher grins. “Men are stupid, Mar. Especially the ones who actually have feelings. They panic. They push. They think they’re being noble when really they’re just scared.”
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
“Then he doesn’t deserve you.” He stands up and holds out his hand to me. “But I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.”
I take his hand. “Thanks, Toph.”
“That’s what friends are for.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Now go home. Sleep. And think about what you actually want to do with your life, because I’ve seen you dance for years, Mar, and lately? You’re not dancing. You’re just going through the motions.”
Ouch.
He’s right. But it still stings.
“I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“Then figure it out. You’ve got time. And whatever it is should be your choice. Not your mom’s. Not his. Yours.”
After I get home from rehearsal the next day, there’s a knock at my door.
Weird. Security usually calls me when packages arrive. Lord knows, there have been enough of them since my online shopping has gotten out of control lately.
I walk to the door and peer into the hallway through the peephole.
My heart stops.
It’s my father.
He looks... older. Grayer. There are lines on his face I don’t remember. He’s lost weight. And in his hand is a small bouquet. He holds it like he’s not sure what to do with it.
I open the door, my throat tight. “Daddy. You’re back.”
“Hi, princess.” His smile wavers. He’s nervous. And I’m still pissed as hell that he left us like he did. “Can I come in?”
I grit my teeth and step aside because I know if I’m really going to move forward, I need closure. I don’t know if I’ll get it, but I have to try. He walks in and looks around.
Monarch bounds up to him, tail wagging. Daddy scratches her ears.
“I went to the ballet,” he says. “Watched rehearsal from the back. You looked so beautiful up there on stage.” He pauses. “But I didn’t want to approach you there and put you in an uncomfortable spot. Not in front of everyone.” He puts down the flowers because I make no effort to take them. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me at all.”
“I didn’t know if I would either.”
We stare at each other with so much to say and no idea where to start.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says when all the air feels like it’s been sucked out of the room. His voice wobbles. “I’m so sorry, Marlowe. For running. For leaving you to deal with my mess. For not being there when you needed me.”
“You left us.” My teeth and fists clench tight. “You left me and Mom like sitting ducks with targets on our backs because of your selfish, self-centered actions. You didn’t even have the decency to warn us about any of it. You just fled. Like a damn coward.”
“I know.” He sweeps a hand over his head. “I told myself I was protecting you by leaving, that if you knew the truth, it would put you in an even more dangerous position. I figured if I disappeared, they’dfollow me and leave you alone. I never thought it would come to this, that you would have been hurt as you were. But the truth is...”
He swallows hard.
