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“Your mother is right, the longer you stay the harder it will be for you to leave,” my father frowned at me. I watched him look longingly towards my mother’s wine and drink deeply from his own water.
My mother grinned. “On this we agree. In fact, I’m here to help you pack.”
“I’m not going,” I said, shaking my head and pushing the folder away.
“Amanda,” my mother gasped. “Don’t you dare do this!”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at her. “You can’t make me.”
My mother started to verbally berate me. She stood up from her chair and shrieked how ungrateful I was. How I was such a spoiled brat.
We were asked politely to leave the restaurant or be forcibly escorted off the premises.
“Don’t you let her do this, John!” my mother screamed at my father in the parking lot from beside her rental car. She wasn’t coming back to the house. She was going to return to her hotel room because she couldn’t stand to be around me a moment longer. “If you love her as much as you claim you do, talk some sense into her. Don’t let her ruin her life like this!”
My father sighed deeply and told me to get in the car. He walked over to my mother and they had words. I watched her shove the folder in his hands before she climbed into her rental and pulled out. My father looked grim when he returned. He set the folder between us and was silent the entire drive home.
When we parked in front of the house, my father grabbed the folder and climbed out of the car first.
It wasn’t until we walked through the front door that he asked me, “Do you want to stay because of Brett?”
After the past couple of weeks, seeing Brett at graduation, and my mother going off on me, I broke down in tears and could only nod my head.
I couldn’t leave him, I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. I was too weak. I didn’t care if he got me pregnant. I didn’t care if he ruined me. I had finally realized I needed him and only him to be happy.
“Oh, sweetheart,” my father said sadly and pulled me into a hug. I cried and let all the sadness out. It felt like I was finally safe to do so now that I had someone to comfort me.
“Do you love him?” my father asked while he squeezed me.
“Yes,” I sobbed. If anyone could understand, my father would. It was awful seeing what losing my mother did to him.
“If you love him, sweetheart, you’ll go. You won’t do to him what your mother did to me.”
“No,” I wailed at my father and his arms around me only tightened.
“Sshh, sshh,” he cooed. “You’re a good girl, Amanda. I know you’ll do the right thing.”
Chapter Nineteen
Brett
Bzzt, Ring!, Bzzt, Ring! Bzzt, Ring!...
“What the fuck?”
My phone went silent and I fell back into bed. I tossed my phone towards the laundry pile and groaned loudly. My head was pounding, and it looked like there was a swirliness to the ceiling.
I didn’t know who was calling but they could wait. Dear god, what was in that drink?
* * *
A loud pounding on the door brought that massive headache of mine straight back to the front of my head. I was at that moment forswearing all booze and bad women. I could hear the pounding again on the front door, and from the way it sounded, I swore it was Chase or one of the guys trying to kill me.
I looked down to see all I was wearing was a pair of boxers, and there were lipstick prints all over my abs. Yeah, I could call ‘em abs now, especially since Peaches from the club liked what she saw. Fuck that looking down stuff though. That fucking hurt my head and made me feel like revisiting everything I had done the night before.
I slowly rolled off my bed and towards the floor. The jolt in my steps sent the room spinning and the carpet almost looked like an appealing bed.
I didn’t drink. Really, I didn’t. But since graduation about two weeks before, Chase and all the guys at the gym had been dragging me all over the town and the strip. My parents warned the guys to take care of me last night, then took off for their trip to the lake.
