He takes this chance to continue: “You don’t need to fix everyone to be worthy, my strong girl. What I’ve been going through, what’s been happening to me … It’s my own doing. I’ve done things, I’ve pushed all of you away. Your mom, and now you … and I’ve got regrets, but I have to live with them. I have to process this. It’s my problem. It’s not yours to fix. The last thing I wanted was to bring you down with me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. There’s not enough time left on this Earth for me to apologize enough for hurting you.”
“I hear that,” I manage to say. “But still, Dad … I needed you. Right now, everything’s fucked, and everything hurts, and you weren’t there.”
“This is never going to happen again,” he starts. “No matter what I’m going through, I’m going to be there for you from now on, I promise?—”
“No.” My voice is loud and clear. Almost panicked. “Don’t you dare.” I remind myself that I’m allowed to be angry. I picture Sophie in my mind. What would she tell me to say? “Dad, I love you. You know I do. I’ve never not loved you. But I’m so sick of being let down. I’m tired of holding out for a promise, of hoping you’ll show up, and then having to deal with the disappointment when you don’t.” There’s a sour taste in my mouth as I remember my seventh-grade graduation party.
My throat feels so heavy it’s difficult to speak. These words hurt to say, but they’re necessary. “I don’t blame you. You’ve always provided for Mom and me. And I’m grateful for that … I really am. But whenever I needed you the most, you weren’t there. I didn’t just need a Dad with a good job, I needed a Dad who was there.”
My words hang in the silence. I can hear his breathing picking up right up until his sobs come back. They rip through me like a hot blade. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, over and over and over again. I don’t say anything; I only listen and let my tears fall silently, my eyes closed. We’re worlds apart, but in this moment, it feels like we’re in the same room. In the same car.
“Okay,” he finally manages to say. “You’re right, my strong girl. I won’t make any more promises. If that’s what you need from me, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Good.” I wipe my face.
“And from now on, if you call or text, I’ll do my best to answer. I won’t promise I’ll answer every time … but I will get back to you. I’m not going to do this again.”
The storm is starting to subside. I take a deep breath, and I realize, in that moment, that I’m going to be okay.
It hurts, and my mind feels like it’s been hit by a truck and thrown into a woodchipper, but I’m going to be okay.
“I’ll be okay,” I repeat out loud. “I want you to know that, Dad. I’m going to be okay.”
“Of course you will,” he says, his voice still shaking. “You’re my strong girl. I never doubted you.”
“But I need to figure my shit out,” I continue. “Like you, I guess. And I don’t think that’s something anyone else can do for me.”
He’s silent, waiting for me to continue.
“I’m happy to know you’ll try your best to pick up if I call you. But … I don’t think I should be calling you for a while. I’m not …” I take another deep breath. “I’m not mad anymore. I don’t hold it against you. I just …” I try to find the right words. “I need to focus on fixing myself before I put any energy into fixing this. Fixing us.”
“You’re right,” he replies. His voice is heavy. “And that’s what I wanted for you in the first place. I want you to focus on yourself. Focus on being the best you that I know you can be, without having to worry about me.”
Part of me does want to worry about him. Whatever he’s going through all the way over there, he’s still going through it. And so I wish I could put in the energy to start talking to him again, to begin to mend whatever has broken during all these months of silence. But I know I can’t do that now. It may come later, but not now.
“I just don’t want to hurt anyone,” I say. I don’t say the rest of the sentence:
Like you did to me.
“That’s okay. You’ll be okay.” His voice is soft against my ear. “I love you, Avery. More than anything. More than I’ll ever be able to truly show you.”
“I love you too, Dad.” A final tear escapes my eyes. I don’t know how to end this conversation, especially since I don’t know when we’ll speak again. “Take care of yourself for me, okay?” It’s the best I can do.
“I’ll do my best,” he says. “And you do the same, my strong girl.”
“Okay.”
I take the phone away from my ear, shoot one last look at Dad’s name on the screen, and close my eyes as I press the red icon.
My heart has shattered into a million pieces. I don’t think I’ve ever been this exhausted. Despite all that, I see everything with crystal clarity. I feel calm and collected, like the sea after a devastating storm.
I know what I have to do now.
I’m going to have to break Logan’s heart.
CHAPTER22
It doesn’t take too long before I hear tapping on the driver’s side window. I peer over and see Logan looking inside. He’s soaking wet. Now that I’m coming down from this emotional rollercoaster, I realize that I am, too. And I’m starting to feel the cold.
