His jaw ticked.
“I’m sorry for leaving. I really am.”
My voice cracked before I could stop it. “It’s too little, too late.” The words came out thin and trembling, and I hated how much they sounded like pleading. “You had eleven years to come back. Where were you?”
He rubbed his jaw and leaned his elbows on the table. Those familiar eyes crinkled at the edges as he whispered, “I’m a weak man. I… I was scared.”
I snorted. “Scared of your fourteen-year-old daughter?”
“That. Right there,” he replied. “I knew you’d find a way to putallthe blame on me. It’s always been so easy to upset you, sweet pea.”
The nickname hit like a slap.
My fingernails broke skin. The pain grounded me for half a second—long enough to stop myself from reaching across the table. Each muscle in my body was coiled to snap while he looked back at me, the picture of neutrality.
“What isthatsupposed to mean?” I hissed.
He put his hands up like he was trying to soothe me. “Only that there are always two people in a relationship. Me and your mother, you and me.”
I was envisioning my mugshot when someone cleared their throat. Red-faced, I turned to the noise, to see a particularly stoic Teddy sliding into the booth beside me. His hair wet and mussed, and the flannel beneath his jacket wrinkled. But he may as well have been wearing armor and riding a white steed.
“Teddy,” my father greeted, all smiles as his gaze flitted between us.
I hadn’t realized how heavy I was breathing until Teddy set a hand on my own, pressing until my fist unfurled and my fingers wove between his. The way he levelled my father with an uncharacteristic amount of impassivity didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, I almost swooned.
“Mr. Wade,” he responded. “What have you two been discussing?”
“Just trying to get our Margot here to see someone else’s perspective. You’ll know what a difficult taskthatis.” My father laughed, warm and sparkling and perfectly calculated.
“Really?” Teddy sent me a sidelong glance. “I’ve never known that to be the case.”
My heart, calmer than it was before, did a mini somersault.
When my father’s mouth opened, I cut him off. “Why are youreallyhere?” I asked, eyes narrowed.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.”
“Try me.”
His smile faltered. “My wife was always encouraging me to make amends. Then… she got sick. And it was her dying wish that Camille would know her sister.”
Well,dying wishwas a little difficult to argue.
Teddy squeezed my hand, and I let out a long sigh.
I studied my father across the table, defiant in his ease and charm as he watched the wheels turn in my head. Of course, he knew that I wouldn’t say no. Maybe I wasn’t as strong as I thought, because I didn’twantto ignore a dying woman’s wish for her daughter. Let alone my own sibling.
Only, this sister came with strings attached. A thousand tiny strings that felt more like frayed nerve endings.
“I’ll think about it,” I murmured.
He sank back into his seat and cocked his head at me. It hadn’t been what he expected, at least. I’d take the wins where I could find them.
Teddy and I said our goodbyes, and he continued holding my hand on Main Street, and all the way to the beach. I sank into the sand, boots and all. It wasn’t until I let go of him that I realized I was shaking.
The wind blew fierce and cold, whipping through my hair and sending it twelve different directions as I stared blankly at the crashing waves. I couldn’t tell if I was shivering from the gust or from everything I hadn’t said. My fingers still tingled from being clenched so long. When he wrapped that stupid, decade-old denim jacket around me, my shoulders finally dropped. The air tasted cleaner, the acid finally gone.
Wordlessly, he sat directly in front of me. I was good at avoiding things. Great, even. He had a way of forcing me to look at him that still managed to frustrate me all these years later.
