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“Someone did pay me to ask you to that dance. But it wasn’t a joke. And I did have a crush on you. It drove me absolutely crazy to have you at my parents’ house all the time. I wanted to be near you, but you were younger and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. You seemed so forbidden, I didn’t know how to handle it.”
“If it wasn’t a joke, why would someone give you money to ask me to prom? Who would do something like that?”
I met her eyes. I had to just tell her. “Your dad.”
Her mouth opened and she took a step backward. “What?”
“He knew you were sad because you didn’t have a date. So he came to me and offered to pay for it if I’d take you—the tickets, tux rental, limo, dinner, plus a little extra. I don’t know why he thought I was a good choice. I guess because he knows our family and I wasn’t too much older than you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Your dad made me swear. But of course I screwed up. Garrett started interrogating me about where I got the money to rent a limo and take you to a fancy dinner, and I let slip that someone paid me to take you. I figured that was the end of it, but the jerk told Annika. And then you found out and the whole thing blew up.
“After that, your dad cornered me in the parking lot outside the Quick Stop and put the fear of God in me. He threatened to take me out and make my body disappear if I ever told anyone he was involved. So I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to apologize, but I was afraid to say anything to you. I didn’t know if I could keep it a secret, and then it was like the more I avoided you, the more I felt like I had to avoid you.”
She shook her head slowly and took another step back.
Panic rose in my chest. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I was stupid and wrong. It’s totally my fault.”
“It’s not only your fault,” she said. “It’s his fault too.”
I moved closer, desperate to gather her in my arms. To hold her tight against me until this awful feeling went away.
But she shied away. “I just need to process this. And I need to talk to my dad.”
She turned and walked out of the room. I fucking hated this. I hated that something I’d done had hurt her. That one glance at an old dress had ripped the wound open again.
I followed her out to the front room. “Marigold.”
She put on one of her coats, grabbed her purse, and stepped into a pair of shoes. “I’ll be back in a little while. I need to talk to him in person.”
“At least let me drive you.”
“No.” She finally met my eyes. “I need to do this on my own.”
As I watched her go, it felt like my heart went out the door with her. It was ripped free from my chest and firmly in her possession.
I just hoped she’d bring it back.
CHAPTER 32
Marigold
I should have known.
Then again, what teenage girl expected her father to go behind her back and pay someone to be her prom date? That was a lot, even for my dad.
Rain pelted the windshield as I drove to my parents’ house and tried to make sense of my feelings. The prom incident had been a formative experience in my young life. I’d gone from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. The worst part had been the sheer embarrassment of it. I had already been a self-conscious teenager. Being the butt of a joke—or so I thought—had been mortifying.
Enough time had gone by that my relationship with Zachary felt disconnected from that long-ago embarrassment. I wasn’t mad at him anymore. Or, at the very least, I didn’t want to be. I wanted to let it go—maybe even pretend it hadn’t happened. But hearing that my dad had been the one behind it all along sent me into a tailspin. All those chaotic, insecure feelings came roaring to the surface.
I needed to know why. Why would he go so far as to pay someone to date me? I already knew he and my mom had a hard time seeing me as a capable adult who could handle her own life. But had he believed he’d need to intervene at every turn, even when it came to my relationships?
Had he ever done it again? Had any of the men I’d dated over the years asked me out at the behest of my father?
I parked outside my parents’ house and noticed I’d stepped into a pair of high heels. Not exactly the smartest choice, but they’d been nearby. At least they had ankle straps. I fastened them before getting out of the car and darted through the driving rain to their front door. My coat didn’t have a hood, but I didn’t care what the stormy weather did to my hair. I knocked and let myself in.
“Mom? Dad? Are you home?”
