“You hate us. You hate me, and my mother, and your father, and I have no idea why.”
“Kira, stop,” I warn, but she continues without any regard.
“What did we do to you? Gerard has done nothing but love us and take care of us. And you spit on him like he’s dirt. Besides my grandfather, he’s the first man to ever treat my mom and me right.”
I try to push back the fury, but the more she talks about my father, the more pissed off I get.
“He’s a good man, and I love him. He’s an amazing husband and father.” Her sweet voice raises. “What did he do to make you hate him so much?”
“He chose you over me!” I finally explode, punching the picture hanging next to her head. The glass shatters, and Kira screams.
He’s an amazing father.Yes, I fucking know that. He raised me.
“Get out, Ky,” Kira orders, sliding away from me, her back never leaving the wall.
I pull myself together and focus my fuzzy vision on her. “No.” I follow her, and she moves faster, darting back into the laundry room and locking the door.
“Ky, get the fuck out,” she screams through the thick barrier between us.
“I’m not leaving, Kira,” I stand firm, beating down the door.
“Please just leave.” I hear her tears, and they rip me apart. I did this. I did all this.
“Kira, just open the door.” I pull at the handle.
“No,” she sobs, and the sound just makes me want to tear into that room even more.
“Kira, please,” I begin to break down.
“Just go away and leave me alone.”
“That’s not what you really want.”
“Yes, it is. I want you gone. I want you out of my house and out of my life. I’ll deal with my problems on my own.” Her voice is brittle yet somehow still strong. That describes Kira to a T — soft as a petal and sharp as a pin.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I slide down to sit on the floor. That’s when I notice the blood. It’s seeping from my knuckles onto the pure white marble. Look at that. I wasn’t even trying to make a mess this time. I press my finger into one of the larger dots and draw a heart between my legs. Then I add squiggles down the center to make it broken, just like me.
After a few quiet minutes, I try again, “Kira, please come out.”
“No,” she sniffs. At least she isn’t sobbing anymore.
“C’mon,” I try to coax her.
“Nope.” She’s stubborn as an ox. It actually makes me smile.
“Remember when I said I was good at making a bad situation worse? See? It’s true.” I bang the back of my head lightly on the door. I’m slowly going mad without her.
Nearly an hour passes before I decide to change tactics. Begging and pleading is clearly not working.
I stand up, my hand still bloody and now slightly swollen.
“Kira, please come out?” I ask with the tamest, most tender tone I can muster. “I want to take you somewhere.”
“Where the fuck could you possibly want to take me?” She’s harsh.
I exhale a deep, pleading breath. “On a date.”
A nerve-racking minute later, the lock clicks. Kira cracks open the door and gawks at me like I have gone completely insane. Maybe I have, but my gamble paid off. We’re making eye contact now.
