She looked down. “I do. His BS…gets old. I want him to be proud of me while at the same time, I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for cheating on my mom.”
Her voice cracked on the last sentence, barely enough to hear, but enough for me to feel it.
She never talked about this. Not in college. Not years ago. Not now. I stepped closer and rested my hand over her knee again. She stared at the mug in her hands, a forlorn, sad look on her face.
“You don’t owe him a thing,” I said quietly.
Her eyes lifted immediately. “He’s still my dad.”
“And you’re still his daughter,” I said. “That should mean he shows up foryou. It should meanhesupportsyou. It should mean he listens. But he isn’t doing that. You’re giving him compassion he hasn’t earned.”
She blinked fast, once, twice. “Iknow. I know that in my head. But in my chest it’s different. He was my favorite parent when I was little. He was the one who took me to school. He was the one who sat in the stands for my dance recitals. He was the one who took us for ice cream at night. And then my mom had the stroke, and everything fell apart. He fell apart. And Theo and I were the ones who had to hold everything together. Theo has forgiven him, and I tried.”
My jaw tightened again. “You were a damn kid.”
She nodded. “I know. But I had to grow up fast. And then when he cheated…” She swallowed hard and stared at her lap. “I saw my mom cry for the first time in my life, even though she forgave him immediately. I didn’t forgive him for that. I don’t think I ever will.”
Her fingers curled around the mug. The smallest tremble hit her left hand. I covered it gently, palm over her knuckles, steady and warm. She let out a breath that shook a little.
“He made it seem like I was dramatic for getting upset,” she said. “He told me I didn’t understand marriage or adult choices. I was a teenager. What was I supposed to understand? I lost both parents in one summer.”
“You kinda did,” I said. My voice stayed soft. “And you got through it. You kept your siblings okay. You helped your momrecover. You grew up while everyone else was grieving and not paying attention to what it cost you. And then Jace also cheated on you.”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes, that was the worst thing he could do and really made me not trust guys at all anymore. Only really you, Noah.”
My heart skipped a beat as I tilted her chip up. “All that is really complicated, and your dad should’ve looked out for you. Been there.”
Her chin wobbled once before she looked away from me. “You make our family drama sound bigger than it was.”
“No, Em, honey, that’s huge.” I took her hand in mine, running my fingers over her palm. “Not everyone would sacrifice themselves for that. Not everyone would hide the truth from their siblings so they would have a normal life. So the fact your dad belittles you when you and Theo carried the family? No, I can’t let you sit back and feel shitty when you are fucking amazing.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her pretty eyes, and I knew it was fake. That angered me a bit, and I shook my head. “You don’t believe me?”
“Noah, I don’t have my life together at all. I feel like I’m always one step behind, no matter how hard I run.” She slid off the counter, setting the mug in the sink and facing me with hands on her hips. “I’m twenty-four and barely can afford to live in the city. All my friends have high-paying jobs, cool careers. Look at you! You’re playing in the NFL!”
“What is this?” I tilted my head to the side. “Why are you being down on yourself?”
“I’m being real. I haven’t done much. I mean, come on, Noah.” She ran a shaky hand through her hair, her gaze moving everywhere in the kitchen but me.
“I need you to explain a little more for me. I don’tunderstand what you’re insinuating.” My heart beat a little faster than normal, and my chest tightened with worry. I didn’t like this version of her, how her dad’s comments were getting to her like this. Something else had to have happened.
“It’s …never mind.” She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight before waving her hand toward her room. “I should get to work.”
“No, say what you were going to say. You asked me to not shut you out, and I promised. I want the same thing. Don’t shut me out. You don’t believe that you’re amazing? Then I’ll work hard to show you, to prove to you that you are.”
“Then why didn’t you text me after the Ferris wheel?” she asked, eyes wide and filled with hurt.
Her question hit me harder than anything my parents had thrown at me this week. She said it fast, almost like she didn’t mean for it to escape, and the second the words left her mouth, her face changed. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Her eyes darted down, and her hands flew up to cover her mouth.
“Em,” I said, stepping toward her, my chest aching with regret.
“No,” she said quickly. She scoffed at herself and shook her head. “Forget it. That sounded dramatic. I didn’t mean it like that. I know about Miles. I know about Nat.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and backed up a step, her shoulders stiff with regret. “Ignore me. That was stupid.”
My stomach dropped.
“It wasn’t stupid,” I said, softer now. I reached for her arm but stopped before touching her because she looked ready to bolt.
She crossed her arms tight against her chest. “My question came out wrong.”
