He sounds truly sympathetic, which is not what I need right now. My throat tightens and tears threaten to fall. I haven’t cried yet this morning. I thought maybe I ran out of tears somewhere around 3 AM, but apparently I was wrong.
“Thanks,” I manage.
“Is the service today?”
“In a few hours.”
“I wish I could be there for you.” He pauses, the sound of voices in the background coming through the line. “It’s not fair…losing someone you love. So young too. A tragedy.”
I fist my comforter, biting back all the things I want to say.
You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to comfort me. You’re the reason the Aldrichs look at me like I’m trash. You’re the reason I’ll never really be part of that family, even if Owen had lived, even if I’d gotten the chance to say yes.
What actually comes out of my mouth is entirely different. “I’m getting by.”
“And you’re feeling okay? I only briefly talked to your aunt Linda and she said they kept you overnight at the hospital.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Your mother taking care of you?”
“Uh, huh,” I say, already exhausted from this conversation.
“Good. That’s good.” He pauses again, releasing a long breath. “Sweetheart, I want you to remember what happened with me and Richard, the business, all of that, it had nothing to do with you and Owen. You two kids, you were separate from all that ugliness. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong there today, okay? You loved him. You have every right to grieve him.”
I should find comfort in his words, but instead, they only piss me off. My grip on my phone tightens to the point of pain. He has no idea what I went through. What I still go through every time I’m seen around Ashford. How people don’t meet my eyes, or how they whisper my name along with “daughter of the embezzler.” He has no right to remind me of anything.
“I have to go get ready,” I say.
“Of course, of course. I just wanted to hear your voice. Let you know I’m thinking about you.”
“Okay.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
The words get caught in the back of my throat. I haven’t said them back to him in a year…maybe more. Definitely not since his sentencing. “Bye, Dad.”
I end the call before he can respond and immediately delete it from my recent calls list. Swipe. Gone. I can make evidence disappear too.Like father, like daughter.
Mom doesn’t know I’ve been accepting his calls, and today is not the day for her to find out.
My phone buzzes again while I’m still holding it. A text this time, from a number I don’t recognize.
Hi Sawyer, this is Melissa from work. Just checking in to see when you think you’ll be back. No pressure, just trying to plan the schedule. So sorry for your loss.
I stare at the message until the words run together. Go back to the hotel. Back to wearing blazers and making small talk with guests and pretending my entire world hasn’t imploded. Back to barely scraping by on my shitty hourly wages, back to checking my bank account before buying groceries. Back to reality. A reality where every plan for my future disappeared in the blink of an eye.
I open my banking app before I can stop myself. The numbers glare back at me. $847.23. Rent is due in two weeks and my paid vacation time has been up as of yesterday.
Fuck. I can’t breathe.
Owen was supposed to fix this. Not like I was using him, but...his company had so much potential, room for growth. We would have moved in together. Split expenses. Maybe eventually I could have gone back to school and finished my degree since having to drop out when Dad’s legal fees drained what little savings my family had left.
The ring box glares at me from the nightstand, mocking me.
This was supposed to be my way out, I think, then immediately hate myself for it. Especially since my first instinct was to run as soon as Knox told me Owen’s plan.
Owen’s gone and I’m thinking about money. I’m a fucking monster.
