“Wren,” my dad greets with his gaze cast down.
My eyes close for a brief second before I turn, leaving the door open. He steps inside, his expression measured, as if he’s trying to figure out how to handle the already fragile situation.
“We need to talk.”
“Yeah, we do,” I toss out as I step back into the kitchen to resume putting away the few groceries I purchased.
He steps closer, stopping on the other side of the counter, hands braced on the edge like it’s a life support.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and I’m taken aback. “About the letter and for not telling you. We didn’t want you waiting on Jett. The boy has changed–grown into a man–but he wasn’t ready for you back then. We didn’t want you holding off on your life while he figured his out.”
“But that wasn’t your place,” I snap.
“I know. We shouldn’t have interfered. I wasn’t happy your mom and Nora did what they did, but it was too late. I learned about it after you were in California, and you seemed happy. I didn’t want to ruin what you were starting. I wish I had known. Hell, I wish everything that happened was different, but wecan’t go into the past. I can only hope one day you’ll forgive me for the part I had in shaping your life when we shouldn’t have interfered, even if we thought we were doing the right thing.”
I swallow roughly, knowing they were only trying to protect me, but it doesn’t lessen my frustration. “I’m so tired of everyone having an opinion over my life. It’smylife.”
“Wren–”
“Do you have any idea what that letter would’ve meant to me?” My voice is sharper than I intend. “How different my life could’ve been?”
“I didn’t know…”
“That’s the problem. No one put themselves in my shoes. Everyone assumed what my life needed to look like at eighteen, but no one asked me what I wanted. You all treated me like a child.”
“Youareour child.”
The words land heavily between us, because I get it. I understand I am their child and they wanted what was best for me, but I was an adult. I was going through something unimaginable, which they didn’t know about, and that’s on me, but I still should’ve been given the letter.
“You not giving me that letter…” I start, my voice quivering despite my effort to steady it. “It changed everything for me.”
“I can see that.”
“No, you can’t,” I whisper.
Because how could he?
No one can understand what those years did to me. The choices I made. The things I stayed for. The version of myself I became just to survive.
Dad’s throat bobs as he tries to read me, but I won’t let my armor crack. “What happened, Pumpkin?”
Tears well in my eyes as I bite my cheek. For a second, I consider telling him everything, but it’s not going to fix anything. At this moment, it’s going to cause more harm than good.
“Just…a lot.”
My shoulders droop as the truth weighs down on me. I’m grateful he doesn’t press.
Instead, he rounds the counter and comes beside me. It’s awkward, with neither of us knowing whether we should hug. As he reaches out, I let his strong arms wrap me up.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Me too,” I admit quietly.
If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that everything can change in a blink of an eye. It’s not forgotten, but it’s forgiven.
He looks at me like he wants to say more, but decides better.
“We’ll be fine, Dad,” I say honestly, because I know we will. “I just need some time.”
