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I tilt the phone away from my mouth. “I’m sorry, baby. I’ll be in in a second.”
“Okay,” she says, but she hesitates a beat before closing the door.
I take another deep breath. “Dad, I’m going to hang up. I wish you well. I really do. I love you. But—yeah, it’s impossible to have a relationship with you without losing my fucking mind.”
“Don’t you dare?—”
“I’m going. Bye.”
“But you’re gonna send the mon?—”
My hand is shaking so badly it takes me two tries to end the call.
The sounds of the forest and the marsh throb around me. Birds. Water. The trees rustling in a stiff, hot breeze.
“Godfuckingdamn it!” I yell. I launch my phone across the deck, throwing it so hard it hits the railing with a solidthunk.It’s loud enough to make me jump.
Jen must hear it too, because her voice sounds over my shoulder. “You okay? What was that?”
Spearing a hand through my hair, I do my best to gather myself. Then I bend down and pick up my phone.
The screen is cracked.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I—that was my phone. My dad called.”
Her hand lands lightly on my shoulder. “Oh, Abel, I’m sorry.”
Coming around to face me, I see that she has tears in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembles.
She immediately wraps me in a hug. And I immediately feel like the world’s biggest shithead for scaring her.
Just like my dad used to scare me.
Tucking my phone into my pocket, I curl my arms around her. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I shouldn’t have shouted or tossed my phone like that. That’s kid shit, throwing a tantrum, and it’s not okay. I’m sorry.”
She nods against my shoulder. I hear the soft patter of the dogs’ nails on the wooden deck. “What happened?”
God, how to condense a lifetime of terrible history into an easily digestible sound bite? “He wants money. He’s lying about what he’ll use it for. I don’t think he’s learned a damn thing from the mistakes he’s made. That’s the short story.”
“And the long story?”
I don’t deserve her.
The voice that says this is one I haven’t heard in a minute. I thought I was past this garbage. The stuff about me inevitably letting her down. About her being good and me being the kind of bad that’s so awful it destroys everything it touches.
I’ve come a long way from being the guy that believes shit like that. But all it takes is one phone call with Dad to open the floodgates again.
“Honestly, Jen, I really don’t want to get into it,” I say, because I already feel myself spiraling. If I keep talking about how fucked up everything is with my family, I’m terrified I’ll lose it again.
Can I really do this?Be with Jen and not hurt her? This is not the last time Dad is going to call me. Definitely not the last time I’ll get upset about something he says or does.
Yeah, Jen and I are starting out strong. But so did Mom and Dad.
Another voice in my head—louder, more controlled and confident—says this is all bullshit.
Deep down, I know it’s pure bullshit. Fear is running the game right now, and that’s no way to live. I’ve learned that. Logically, I know I’m different from Dad and that I deserve good things. But the fear that’s lived inside me for decades is making me believe I’m going to perpetuate his toxic patterns.
“You have to talk to me.” Jen leans back so she can look me in the eye. “That’s the only way I’m going to be able to help, Abel. I want to be there for you.”
