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He lets out a low sigh. “You know, you used to get panic attacks like that when you were a kid. After the first one, your mother and I stayed up all night researching different ways to calm you down.”
“Yeah, Mom used to do the breathing thing with me a lot. But when she got sick, I tried to hide it from her. I didn’t want to stress her out.”
“I wish she was here.” He gives me a sad smile. “Things would have turned out a lot different for you.”
I bite my lip. The last time Dad and I sat in the car like this, he told me she’d be disappointed in how much of a screwup I’ve become.
“You got a raw deal,” he continues. “No one should lose a parent at your age. When your grandparents passed away, I was thirty. It was hard for me then, so I can’t imagine what you’re going through now. I probably would’ve acted out the same way you did.” He leans across the seat and pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Willow. I just want to see you happy.”
“I don’t know how to do that right now,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
He pats my back. “I know. And that’s okay.”
All the energy has seeped from my body. I’m drained, physically and emotionally, and all I want is to go to bed and bury myself under the blankets.
Dad helps me up the stairs to my room and finds a pair of pajamas for me to change into. When I emerge from the bathroom, he tucks me into bed the way he used to when I was little.
“Good night, Willow.”
I want him to tell me tomorrow will be better, that it’ll be like waking up from a bad dream. But he and I both know the turmoil has just begun.
He turns off the light and shuts the door. I reach for my phone and check for any messages from Alek, but my inbox is empty.
The sobs begin anew. Hot tears fall onto my pillow as I bury my face in it.
I scream.
This pain is as bad as the night Mom died, except now, I’m grieving two losses, not one. The wounds are still raw.
And I’m not sure I’m strong enough to take it anymore.
Chapter 25
Alek
Watching Willow walk away from me makes my chest ache. But the tears in her eyes, caused by my father’s callousness, are pure torture.
The door closes with a heavy thud. I take a step to chase after her, to hold her in my arms and tell her I will fix this.
“Stop.”
My father’s authoritative tone holds the power to halt me in my tracks. I have defied him tonight, and he will not let that go unpunished.
But I will accept my sentence. I will endure his worst as long as I can be with Willow. We will figure out a way to be together, even if I have to flee the country in secret to be with her.
The only thing I want in this world is her. Nothing else matters.
“How did you know?” I ask, my eyes glued to the door.
“What sort of father would I be if I didn’t keep tabs on my children?” He reaches into his top desk drawer, and when he pulls out a leather journal, my stomach knots.
My journal. Where I write my innermost thoughts about Willow.
The floor grows unsteady beneath my feet.
My father steps up behind me, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. The gesture makes my body go rigid.
“You must learn discretion before taking on a mistress.”
