He frowned. “You’re working at Laces Out?”
“Yeah…” I trailed off at the look of horror on his face.
“Sweetheart, I told you that if you needed anything, to let me know. I’ve got your housing and utilities covered. Along with anything school related. I’d be happy to help you with groceries.”
I could feel embarrassment hit my cheeks because Preston was still standing there, seeing how I was basically a twenty-three-year-old freeloader.
“Hey, Pres.”
Thankfully, Wesley waved him to his office and Preston stepped away, but not before shooting me a concerned glance.
I was so relieved I could cry. But my father didn’t read my silence as embarrassment.
So he continued. “I mean, you shouldn’t have a car payment, right? Or did you trade it in since your first year at Baldwin? That was one thing your mother and I agreed on.” He chuckled. “Buying your car for you and paying for your college education.”
Wait. What?
“Dad…”
He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, tugging me to his side before planting a kiss on my hair. “I wanted you to be able to get your education without any overhead. I know sending those checks didn’t make up for me being gone, but it was the least I could do. Take the financial burden off of you and your mom.”
His words began to sink in, along with a nauseating feeling rooted deep in my gut.
He paid for my school? Then why the hell did I have student loans…
The realization hit me with a physical force, the ugly truth slapping me right across the face.
“Coach Maxwell.” A woman in a navy pant suit glided down the hallway, a smile steady on her face.
I’d seen her around and we met briefly earlier this week. She was the assistant to the head of the athletic department.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“Of course.” My father released me. “You good, sweetheart?”
No. No, I am not.
“Yeah.” My throat tightened, my voice straining. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
My feet moved mindlessly. The journey to my car, then to my house, was barely memorable. Just blurs of lights and street signs. When I finally stumbled inside my front door, I shakily picked up my phone and dialed my mom.
“Trinity,” she answered. “Ready to ditch Texas yet?”
I closed my eyes. “How could you do that to me?”
Silence.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice shockingly hesitant.
“I’m talking about the money Dad sent for my college. For my car!” My voice rose as my emotion spiked.
“Calm down,” she hissed. “Why are you yelling?”
“Because you took it, didn’t you?” My voice shook.
“Trinity, listen. I did what I had to do to survive. The child support stopped when you turned eighteen and I…”
A strangled laugh bubbled from my throat. “Thought you’d cash the checks he sent for my school and watch me work three jobs for four years. Work myself to the bone to pay for everything while you sat on your ass.”
