Seeing no reaction no matter how loud he laughs, Dad stops. “You really think he loves you, don’t you? How fucking dumb are you?” He looks me dead in the eye. “Wake up, Blair. Life is not a movie. You’re throwing away years of work, and for what? A guy who’s worth ten of you? Forget Cody! There’s six million in your portfolio, Blair! Think about those dreams you’ll make come true—”
“Some dreams are worth sacrificing for one that already came true,” I say quietly. “I agreed to be treated like I’m worthless because I blamed myself. I thought I deserved nothing but pain for how I acted.”
“You’re right. That’s all you deserve,” he seethes, folding his arms across his chest. “So what? You suddenly forgave yourself? Don’t play innocent, Blair. You did what I said every time because you fucking enjoy it. You love the attention. You love a challenge, and you love manipulating people.”
“Do you really think I love being touched without consent? Being used? Having no say in what happens to me? There’s a lot of reasons I allowed this so long, why I never reported you, but none of them are valid anymore.”
“What will you report, Blair?” he barks, full of confidence that suddenly wavers as a shadow of fear clouds his face. “It’s my word against yours. No one will believe you after I’ve told them I cut you off. That I took away your allowance. You’re a spoilt little girl with a long list of sins. You have no credibility.”
“I won’t report you. I don’t want the money, or the car, not even the house. The only thing I want is for you to leave me alone.”
He rakes his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I can’t fucking believe you. You think you’re in love? You’re not. Love is an illusion. Itdoesn’texist!”
“It doesn’t feel like an illusion,” I say, peering up at him.
This conversation is pointless. There is nothing he can say that will convince me I’m making a mistake. There’s also nothing I can say to show him what kind of monster he became once Mom got sick. Maybe he’ll see it one day. Maybe he’ll look back at his life and regret the things he’s done while blinded by greed.
But that day isn’t today because there’s not an ounce of remorse on my father’s face.
With a deep, calming breath, I muster the strength to get up, wheeling the suitcase behind me. “Goodbye, Dad.”
He stands there, dumbfounded, watching me leave. I get as far as the elevator before he grips my arm, yanking me back.
“Where the hell will you go?”
I’ll be back here as soon as he’s gone so I can grab the other suitcase from Cody’s apartment. “That’s not your problem.Iam no longer your problem.”
He grinds his teeth. “Of course it’s my fucking problem. What do you think people will think when you end up homeless after Cody throws you out?” He shoves the keys into my hand. “It’s your name on the deed and your name on the car registration. I can’t throw you out even if I want to. Get back inside, calm down, sleep this dreamy attitude off and we’ll talk on Monday.”
I open my mouth, but he holds his hand up to silence me and marches away, heavy steps thudding down the stairs.
I gawk at the empty space where he stood a second ago, the whole situation surreal at best. If I had stood up for myself years ago, how different would my life be now?
Slowly, I turn around, wheeling the suitcase back into my condo before crossing the hallway to get the other one from Cody’s bedroom. As soon as I step inside and his smell engulfs me, I break down, crying like I’ve never cried before.
Instead of bursting with relief because I still have a roof over my head, tears well in my eyes.
It doesn’t feel like a win.
It feels like a blade through my heart because judging by Dad’s reaction, by how quickly he folded, he only used me becauseIallowed it...
I did this to myself.
THIRTY-FIVE
Cody
“MORNING.” Mia’s normally sweet, melodic voice slices through my aching head like a chainsaw. “Did he sleep here all night?”
I cautiously peek under heavy eyelids, squinting against the blinding sunlight streaming through the window. Did someone take a baseball bat to my skull last night?
The room spins wildly, and I clamp my eyes shut, inhaling a steady breath.
“Yes,” Ana says in a low, soft tone. “He came back around three this morning, grabbed this...” She tugs something I’m resting my cheek against, “...and fell asleep before I had a chance to cover him with a blanket.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, my throat dry, tongue like sandpaper. I try to speak, but can only manage a raspy whisper. “Bug... lower, please.” I peek again, finding Mia leaning over me, her face blurry and distorted.
“I’ve got the hangover remedy for you.”
