"Yes."
"Your mom's fine withthat?That boy sleepin' over?"
Him judging my mother'sparenting is just crossing the damn line."She is.And I'm eighteennow, remember?I make my own choices.Andthat boywould kill for me.Unlikethe one you were fine with me sleepin' with.You know, the one whowould've killedmeif not forthatboy," I practically growl.
My father glares at me,but it's not hostile.In fact, I can't get a good read on it atall.
"You wanted to talk," Iprompt."So, talk."If he says one negative thing about Sam or mymom, this conversation is over.
He startles at my gall.Hedoesn't know this stronger version of me.I'd say he should getused to it, but I doubt he'll be around long enough to get used toanything about me.
I don't know what I expectof him.I know he probably thinks he came to my rescue by agreeingto testify against Robin, but I don't feel like he did me anyfavors.All he did was tell the truth, and that was after a year ofcalling me a liar.Does that warrant gratitude?Perhaps some.Butcertainly not forgiveness.
"I'm sure by now you knowthat I'm the reason he knew you'd be in Miami," my fatherbegins.
I nod.
"I wasn't even thinkin',Rory.We were all havin' dinner, and I just mentioned it inpassing.I never thought for a second Robbie would follow you downthere, and that if he did he would try tohurtyou."
I listen to him call Robinby the affectionate nickname.I listen to him defend himself bytelling me about his cozy dinner with the family that destroyed mylife and his cluelessness over Robin's behavior.But he has noright to it.None.
"He didn'ttryto hurt me.Hedidhurt me,"I correct him.
He shakes his head vaguely."I never thought—"
"Well that's just it,isn't it?"I cut him off.
My father's browfurrows.
"Younever thought for a second.But youshould have.You should have believed me the first time I told youwhat he'd been doing.You shouldn't have even been there!"I takedeep breaths, trying to calm myself.The last thing I want is tobecome hysterical—to be the crazy girl he saw me as for the pastyear.And I also don't want Sam coming back out to intervene, andif he thinks I might work myself into a panic, that's exactly whathe'll do.
"You shouldn't have beenhaving dinner with...with myrapist."I say the word I onceavoided at all costs.The word that made it seem too real.But Iknow now that itwasreal, that no softer word could ever soften the reality ofit."With the people who helped him get away with it, who harassedme, who made it impossible to live in my own hometown.You shouldhavethought for a secondabout what Robin might do with that information.You had no excuse not to," I tell him, months worth of training myaccent away abandoning me in seconds.
But I'm far from thelittle girl desperate for his approval.And he's far from thefather I once knew.But he stands there without an ounce of theindignation I expect, accepting every word as if he knows hedeserves them.
"Your excuses died themorning I worked up the nerve to tell you what'd been goin' on," Isay pointedly.
"I told you what he did tome and you handed me right off to him not minutes later," I remindhim."Did you ever even look at the pictures?"
I know the answer beforehe even shakes his head.No.He didn't.Why would he look atphotos that are evidence of an attack he never believed actuallyoccurred?I doubt he ever even read my statement.He heard theForbeses' side, and backfilled what he needed to in order to makeit work.Of course, if he believed a word of my account, that meanthe could have prevented it, and how could he admit that?
It infuriates me—hiswillful denial.His dereliction of his duty not only as a father,but as the district attorney, a job he'd always taken remarkablyseriously.I don't doubt for a second that this was the first andlast case he ever handled so cavalierly.I can't even imagineanother situation in which he would decide on charges or plea dealswithout actually reviewing the evidence.No, this was a privilegereserved solely for his own daughter.
I lift the hem of my teeshirt and pull the waistband of my yoga pants just an inch,revealing my scar."He almost killed me in that locker room.Hewould have killed me in Miami if Sam hadn't gotten there in time.And both are on you.You know what?You should have known somethin'was wrong even before I told you.You just completely stoppedpayin' me any attention, and I think...I think part of why Istayed with him, why it took so long for me to speak up, even whenI was suffering like that, was because I wanted to pleaseyou."
I realize how true it isas the words flow out of me.My father's abandonment made mevulnerable to Robin.He's more at fault than I even realized.Andthough I realize I'm ranting, it's cathartic.I don't care if hewants to hear the truth or not, I need to speak it.
"But I finally worked upthe courage to tell you the truth...Do you have any idea how hardit was for me to get those words out?"
My father bows his headsubtly in shame.It's unexpected, but it changes nothing."I can'teven imagine," he mutters softly—to me or himself, I can't be sure.But I don't care, I have more to say.Even if he's the one who cameto talk, I'm the one who has finally found her voice.
"Still, I was able to tellyou because I was sure you would finally make it stop...Ineededyou to make itstop."I wait for him to meet my eyes again."You were my daddy.Itwas your job to protect me.Not once did I consider that youwouldn't believe me.Or worse, that you'dblameme," I admit.
He rubs his face with hispalm."I'm so sorry, Rory."
Words I never thought I'dhear, but they aren't enough.No words will ever beenough.
"But you know what theworst part is?You made me blamemyself.You made me believe thatwearin' a short skirt or kissin' my boyfriend meant I asked to beassaulted, over and over again."
