I smiled and sent a heart emoji, but something still felt off even then.
Maybe it's just that he's in Miami, and I'm driving to my dad's small house in a town that hasn't changed in twenty years. Maybe it's the contrast between his escape and mine.
Or maybe it's the nagging feeling that his choosing Miami over meeting my dad means something I don't want it to mean.
But I’m not going to think like that. The guy has been through hell the last week, and he deserves some downtime. I want that for him. He deserves it.
I just kind of wish I wasn’t one of the things he needed to get away from.
I pull into the driveway just after six and feel that sense of peace that you get when you go home after being away for too long. It doesn’t matter how small or rundown the house is—it’s home.
Dad opens the front door before I even get out of the car.
"There's my girl!" He pulls me into a hug. He smells like Old Spice and coffee with a subtle hint of oil—just like always.
"Hi, Dad."
He pulls back and studies my face. "You look tired."
"Long semester."
"That’s all it is?"
I should know better than to lie to him. He's always been able to read me.
"Yeah. Just tired. Lots of work."
He doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't push. Not yet.
Inside, the house is warm. “I ordered pizza for dinner,” he says.
That’s our tradition—pizza the night before, as we prepare the side dishes for the big feast.
I put my bag in my bedroom and return to the living room. He hands me a cold beer and a plate stacked with three slices.
He sits in his recliner, and I stretch out on the couch with the quilt my grandmother made more than thirty years ago.
Home.
Comfort.
Belonging.
I feel bad that Declan never got this. I understand a little more why he went to Miami. He doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere. Maybe one day, he’ll feel like this place is where he belongs—even if it’s only for holidays.
“Tell me about school,” Dad says around a mouthful.
I tell him about my classes, hockey, and work at the restaurant. Safe topics. Things that don't involve Declan's father, bribes, or Miami.
My phone buzzes.
Declan:Made it! Check out this view.
He's attached a photo. Blue ocean, white sand, palm trees. He's shirtless and grinning, with Ashton and Pierce flanking him in the background.
I stare at the photo longer than I should.
"Who's that?" Dad asks.
