“It’s going well,” I say, smiling slightly.
He huffs. “I knew you had it in you.”
I bite my lip to distract from the moisture filling my eyes. This is by far the most praise I’ve received from him since the day I told him I wasn’t going into the PhD program he picked out for me. “Thanks, Dad.”
He smiles, always a small thing, but meaningful nonetheless. “Would you like to come to dinner with me tonight?”
My stomach swoops, and I let myself imagine what reconciling with my family would look like. I’d never be able to trust them fully or pick holidays with them over spending them with Colton and Gerry—my true family—but the truth is, I miss them. I miss my dad’s gruff commentary on life and the way Christian and Joshua would roughhouse. I miss hiding underneath Dad’s giant desk after I pulled a prank on one of them while Bradley pointed them in the wrong direction. I even miss Mom, the cold shake of her head when we were out of control.
I loved them all so much, and maybe reconnecting could heal something in me, the part of me that broke when I realized how easily I was thrown away.
“Sure,” I say. “That sounds great.”
His smile grows. “Perfect. You remember Dr. Livingston?”
My own smile falls in response. Of course I remember Dr. Livingston. He’s one of the half-dozen friends of my dad’s who offered me a spot in their graduate program after Colton won the fellowship. A part of the same group Dad used to trot me out in front of when I was in elementary school to list all the Roman emperors in order. A fun little party trick to entertain his friends.
When I was young, I thought it was him celebrating our connection. I believed we were bound on a deeper level because of our shared love, that him pushing me toward his field was asign of how special I was to him. It wasn’t until I was grown that I realized I was a pawn to show off, one that was easily sacrificed when I was no longer protecting the king.
Dad continues, completely unaware of the spiral inside me. “Dr. Livingston is in town for the week, and I thought you two could connect and discuss you joining his program next year.”
“Why would I join his program, Dad?” I say, pure exhaustion seeping into my tone.
“You’ve done well in the classroom this summer. It shows I was right all along about the correct path for you.”
“Dad, that’s not?—”
“You’ll be older than most of your peers, but it’s all about the quality of the work you produce.”
“I have no?—”
“There’ll be some people, like Colton, you’ll never be able to catch up to, but you can still make a substantial?—”
“Dad,” I shout, and he finally stops talking. “I’m not switching my career. I have no desire to go back to school.”
His gaze softens. “I know losing the Harrow Fellowship to Colton was a heavy blow, but you’re giving up all your talent because of one bad moment.”
I want to scream, to sit him down and unload every thought and feeling I’ve had about how he’s tried to manipulate and control me. To dissect everything with the fellowship until he understands that I’ll never choose to get back on his path. But he won’t listen, and it would bring up drama long since buried that would put Colton in the crosshairs.
He sighs when I don’t speak, like I’m a disappointing child. In his eyes, I guess I am. “Why are you being so stubborn about this, Quinn? Don’t you miss your family?”
I blink back tears. Of course he’d make the estrangement my fault. “That’s your fault, not mine.”
“Your brothers miss you. And your mother. Do you knowhow much it hurt her that you barely even said hello at Bradley’s engagement party?”
I doubt Mom thinks much of me at all, just like I rarely think of her. The two of us were never close. Gerry’s who I go to for motherly love. As for my brothers, my guess is they’ve gotten comfortable with this estrangement and don’t care enough to resolve it. I was never important enough to them to begin with.
Either way, I’m not reorganizing my life for a handful of people who don’t love me enough to respect my wishes. And I’m not going to stand here feeling guilty about the consequences of my dad’s actions.
“This was a great chat, Dad,” I say. “We’ll have to take a rain check on that dinner.”
I leave the office and head to the second one farther down the hallway, determined to squash that split second of hope. Leaving Rome at the end of summer will be hard, but having a thousand miles between me and my father again? That’s definitely something to look forward to.
Lookingup at the palace looming over us, this was absolutely the right choice. Dr. Keck loves the unique architecture, and I love that this trip includes at least three hours of forced interaction with me.
Dr. Keck’s been the hardest to pin down on this trip. I’m pretty sure she’s been actively avoiding me, but she’s softened up a bit in Juliana’s presence, chatting about the students in the architecture major that Dr. Keck thinks may be the right fit for Juliana and Ben’s internship program next year.
Now that our tour of the palace is over, we have some time to wander the extensive gardens, some of the most elaborate in the world. Miles of unique grottos and architectural features that accentuate the natural beauty of the landscape.
