"Jesus," Briggs mutters, tugging at strands of his hair. "This isn't the time or place for this conversation, Half Pint. Let's talk about it after the game."
"I want to talk about it now. You know why she hates me, don't you?"
"Hattie," Vanessa says softly, reaching for my arm, but I shake her off.
"She doesn't hate you, baby sister," Briggs says, his voice rough.
"Really?" I plant my hands on my hips. "It sure feels that way to me."
"She doesn't hate you, Hattie. She's jealous of you."
"What?" I gape at him. "Why?"
"Because she's a vapid bitch," he growls bluntly, the harshest thing he's ever said about her. "You look just like Dad, and she can't stand it. In her mind, you’re her daughter. That means you're supposed to look, act like, and think like her. Instead, you've always been more like him."
I just stare at him, shocked.
"He was leaving her, Half Pint," Briggs says gently. "He caught her trying to limit what you were allowed to eat, and he was furious. He planned to leave her and take us with him."
"She blames me," I whisper, my stomach twisting.
"No, she blames him," Briggs says, stomping across the box to me. "She hates that he was your hero and that you two were so close, so she's spent years trying to turn you into a little replicaof her just to spite him. But you're too goddamn smart for that, baby sister. You've stood your ground and refused to let her change a single thing about you, no matter how hard she's tried. She knows she'll never have any real influence over you and your life, and that drives her nuts."
"I…I don't know what to say," I mumble, feeling numb. For most of my life, I've felt like I did something wrong and wondered why I wasn't enough. And it turns out…I could have looked exactly like my brothers, and it still wouldn't have been enough. She still would have treated me the same way, not because she hates me, but because she hates my dad, and I idolized him.
"I thought she loved him."
"She loved what he did for her," Briggs snorts. "She loved his money. She loved being seen on his arm. She never loved him."
"Did he love her?" I ask, meeting his gaze.
"Yeah." Briggs swallows. "I think he did. At least, he did until she stopped hiding who she really was from him. It's hard to love someone who is jealous of their own daughter, though, Half Pint. You were his little princess."
I don't know how to fit any of this into place in my head. But in an odd way…it feels like a boulder being lifted off my shoulders. There's nothing I could have done differently. Literally nothing.
It's funny. She wanted me to be like her so much that she made me cling to him even harder. I was a Daddy's girlbecausehe never wanted to change me. It didn't matter to him if I was loud or messy or awkward or if my hair wasn't perfect or if I said the wrong things. He just loved me anyway. All the good parts of me are the parts he instilled in me.
Maybe I should feel bad that he was leaving her because of what she was doing to me, but I don't. I hate that he never got the chance. And I hate that I never got to say thank you. I hate that he's gone, and I spent most of my life dealing with her jealousy.But…I'mgladat least one of my parents loved me enough to put me first.
Briggs tugs me into his arms, squeezing me tightly. "We're fucking done with her shit, Hattie. Tye told us about the little prick she tried to force on you. That shit won't ever happen again."
"What does she have to do?" I whisper, looking up at him.
"Start therapy," he growls. "And apologize to you. Unless she does both this week, she isn't coming to Tye's wedding. She isn't welcome in our lives at all."
"Briggs." My face falls. "You don't have t—"
"Yes, we do," he says, his tone leaving no room for arguments. "We always let you talk us into softening toward her, but we're not doing it this time, baby sister. Unless she gets her shit together, she's losing all four of her kids, the way she should have the minute you turned eighteen. She's had three years longer than she should have had. That's all she gets."
"She isn't going to apologize."
"That's her choice to make. But you aren't dealing with her shit anymore, Hattie. Dad would have been so fucking proud of the woman you've become. She doesn't get to take that away from you or him just because she's jealous."
I choke on a sob, tears spilling down my face.
His eyes go wide. "Shit. Don't cry."
"They're happy tears."
