“Nuh-uh.” I shook my head. “You’re not getting off so easily. I want to know why you were looking at an article on the Electra complex?”
“It’s, um, for class,” she answered, avoiding my gaze.
“Really? Which class?” I asked in a nonchalant tone. The fluttering of her eyelashes told me to keep pressing. I had a feeling she was lying.
“Finance.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah. It is a pretty fascinating concept that relates to world markets and the—”
“Sumner.” I placed my hands on her shoulders. “I think we both know it has nothing to do with world markets.”
She hung her head. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Are you worried you have Daddy issues?” I asked, half joking.
I was vaguely familiar with the Electra complex—enough to know it was the female equivalent of the more commonly known Oedipus complex. The theory that children sought partners of the opposite sex who most closely resembled their parent. We’d never discussed it, mostly because she and Ian had always had a great relationship—loving and supportive. At least until I’d come between them.
“No.” She huffed, her cheeks blossoming with color.
“I’m not judging you,” I soothed. “Merely trying to understand.”
“I was looking for articles on situations like ours. I was trying to find out if anyone’s parent had forgiven them or found a way to accept their relationship. And I came across the Electra complex and was curious.”
“Curiosity is a good thing,” I said, wanting her to feel nothing but my love and support.
“You’re not mad?” she asked, seeming nothing like the confident, assertive woman I knew her to be.
“Mad?” I asked. “Of course not. Baby, I would do anything to make this better for you. I’m just not sure the internet is the best place to look for answers.”
She let out a heavy exhale. “I know. But he still refuses to talk to either of us, and it’s been nearly two months since…”
His birthday.
The blowup.
“And I’m trying.” Her voice was strained, and it pained me to hear it. I knew she’d sent emails. Texts. Calls. All of which had gone unanswered. “I’m not sure what more I can do,” she sighed.
Despite how hurt she’d been by his words, she still wanted a relationship with her dad. She was his only child. They’d always been close. And I’d come between them. He’d lost his best friend and his daughter in one fell swoop, and I knew it had to be eating him up inside.
I’d tried reaching out to him a few times myself, but Ian wouldn’t budge. He continued to act as if neither of us existed. Ian’s words from all those months ago still reverberated in my mind. “I don’t ever want to speak to you again.”
But it was the way he’d spoken to Sumner that had pushed me over the edge. The fact that Thanksgiving was approaching and he seemed intent on pursuing this course. Even now, I was still angry with him for hurting the woman I loved. I deserved his rage; she didn’t. And I’d vowed to find a way to make it right.
So far, it wasn’t going so well.
I pulled her into my chest, my shirt muffling her sniffles. “We’ll figure this out together.” I smoothed my hand over her back. “I promise.”
“Can I have my surprise now?” she asked.
I chuckled. “Will that make you feel better?” She nodded, and I wiped away her tears with my thumbs. “Okay. Close your eyes.”
She did as I said, and I moved behind her, steering her down the hall.
“What did you do?” she chided, though we both knew she was teasing.
I squeezed her shoulders. “No peeking.”
