“I have the time today,” he says shortly, not meeting my eyes.
This is exactly what I was afraid of.Not yelling, not anger, just this cold, controlled disappointment that makes me feel like I’m failing at being the daughter he wanted.I have to survive twelve months of this.
“Okay,” I say quietly.“I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t answer, just flips another page.
For a second, I stand there, the sound of the rustling paper filling the space where a goodbye should be.Then I turn and walk out, my chest tight, the door creaking behind me as I head toward my car, texting my friend Scarlet.
Me:I made it.I can’t wait to see you.Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll come over.We’re long overdue for an in-person catch up.
Scarlet:You’re telling me.How about tomorrow?
Me:Perfect.I’ll come by after work.
I drop my phone into my purse and hop into my silver Honda Civic, which feels more like home than my father’s house ever will.
Inside, I roll down the windows, letting the warm spring air flood in.
With trembling fingers, I connect my phone to the car's Bluetooth and call Mom.
“So, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”Her voice fills the car before I even say hello.
I let out a surprised laugh as the tight knot in my chest eases.“You didn’t even let me say hi.”
“I’ve been waiting by the phone for you to call.”
“Mom, it’s only a three-hour drive.You’re making it sound like I left and moved to Australia.”My frustration slowly disappears with her calm voice.
“Sorry.I’ll always want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Well, I’m safe and in a time capsule.”I shiver at the memory.“He’s kept the house, including my bedroom, exactly the same.”
“Oh, God.Everything?”
“Everything,” I say.“I just want to get this year over and done with.”My fingers tap restlessly against the steering wheel.“So I can come back to the city.With you.”
“I know,” she says, understanding laced into her tone.“But it'll go fast.Try to enjoy it.”
I snort.“For someone who didn’t like this place and ran as fast as she could, you're very optimistic.”
She chuckles.“Maybe it’s changed.Different time, different people.It might be better now.”
“Then why didn’t you come back too?”
I don’t mean for it to come out so harsh, but my bedroom looked like I’ve never left, and my father’s already treating me like I need permission to buy groceries.Nothing’s changed.Not the house, not him, probably not this town.Mom’s optimism is sweet, but she got out and stayed away for a reason.
“It’s not my life anymore,” she says gently.“You’re there for something different.Something you need.”
“I know, I know.”I rest my head back against the seat, closing my eyes briefly.“Okay, I should probably go buy some cream and pretend to be a functioning adult now.”
“Call me if you need me,” she says, sounding more serious.“But really… good luck tomorrow.You’ll be fine on your first day.”
“I will,” I promise.“I’ll keep you posted.”
Reluctantly, I hang up.I adjust my rear-view mirror and catch my reflection… Tired eyes staring back, blue like my mother’s, but carrying the same fierce intensity as my father’s.
Before I can change my mind, I shift the car into drive.I cruise down the familiar streets, rows of large trees lining either side, passing the old ice cream parlor where I had my first awkward date, the park where I fell off my bike at eight, the corner where I had my first kiss at sixteen.
