“The hockey gossip column thing? Tabitha what’s her name? One of my buddies gets her newsletter. She said you’re dating that rich boy. Eloise, what do you think you’re doing?”
He points at me again. “And what the fuck did you do to your neck? Are those…? Hell no. Eloise.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are those hickeys on your neck?”
I don’t need to answer that one, the bruises speak for themselves. There’s literally no other explanation for the trail of marks down my neck and throat.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” He plants his hands on his hips, puffing out his chest.
I expect him to continue, but he tips his head like he’s waiting for me to answer. I’m not sure what to say. Any answer I give him is going to piss him off. So, I stick with the truth.
“I’m a grown woman, Dad. I’m not a little girl anymore.”
He snorts.
“I can make my own decisions on who to spend time with.”
He snorts again. “Decisions. Ha. Mistakes you mean.”
“If it’s a mistake, it’s mine to make.” I cross my arms.
“I don’t like this, Eloise. What would your mother say?”
I hate that he’s using my dead mother as a weapon against me, that he casually throws her into conversation like the weight of her death doesn’t crush my chest every day. He uses her name as though I don’t torment myself enough with questions of “What if?” and “Would she?” and drown in guilt every single day I wake up and she doesn’t.
“Mom would say to follow my heart, Dad.”
He chuckles, but it’s unkind. “She would send you to your room to think about your behavior and how you’re embarrassing yourself.”
My blood fizzes under my skin. I can’t remember the last time I felt so calm and centered, so like myself, and he’s trying to ruin it for me. I was finally in a better place; I’ve found people who don’t make me feel like a freak and he’s trying to take it from me. I refuse to let him.
“Just because you’re embarrassed by my behavior, doesn’t mean it’s embarrassing.”
“I don’t even recognize you anymore, Eloise.”
“Well, maybe if you stuck around long enough to spend time with me, you might have a better idea of who I am these days.”
He jerks back, as though I physically smacked his face, and while I spoke in anger, I don’t regret what I said. He’s been on the road alotsince Mom died. It’s as though he can’t bear to be anywhere near me.
Even if I didn’t look like her, the scars on my face are a constant reminder to him of what happened. That I lived, and she died. I get it. But what he doesn’t seem to realize is that while he can walk away and not look at me, I don’t get that option. And I’ve got to find my way through the tall grass by myself.
Despite legally being an adult, some days I need my dad.
“I leave again in the morning.”
Surprise, surprise.
“But I’ll stop by over the holiday next week.”
“I have plans.” The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to filter. His eyes narrow, hurt and anger flaring in them.
“With whom?”
I can’t help but catch the edge in his voice. He knows with whom, but he wants me to say it. Like I should have preempted the fact he’s going to be present for the holiday for a change. I’m not a mind reader. Again, maybe if he stuck around to have a conversation…
Heaving out a sigh, I force my shoulders away from my ears. “With Ares and his family, Dad. He knew I’d be alone for the holiday, so he asked if I wanted to join him for dinner with his parents.”
“Well, cancel. You won’t be alone.”
“I won’t cancel.” I clear my throat but don’t look away.
