“You did everything to me,” he says. “You ruined me.”
I inhale, ragged. “You’re not ruined.”
He laughs, sharp and cruel. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have a reputation to protect.”
Something snaps inside me.
Maybe it’s exhaustion. Maybe it’s survival. Maybe it’s the last shred of the girl my grandma kept trying to preserve.
“I do,” I whisper. “I had one. I just didn’t realize it was never mine.”
Evan’s eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”
It means I built my whole life around making other people proud of me.
It means I confused obedience for love.
It means I’m sitting in a car with a man who thinks he can punish me back into place.
“I’m scared,” I say before I can stop myself.
Evan scoffs. “Of what? Consequences?”
“No,” I whisper. Tears slide down my cheeks, unstoppable. “Of you.”
Emotion flickers across his face.
Not regret.
Offense.
“How dare you?” he says quietly.
I let out a broken sound. “I didn’t want this. I never wanted it to be like this.”
Evan turns icy. “This is your fault.”
My throat burns. “Stop.”
“Your father is done with you,” he says, like he’s delivering the final verdict. “Do you understand that? He said if you don’t fix this, he will never speak to you again.”
The words land like a punch.
Even though I know my father’s love has always had conditions. Even though I know he’s only “proud” when I make him look good.
It still hurts.
Because a part of me is still ten years old, holding up a report card, waiting for him to smile.
My chest caves in. A sob tears out of me. I can’t hold it back.
Evan’s lip curls. “Damn, Faith. Crying again. You’re always like this. You always have to make yourself the victim.”
“I’m not a victim,” I whisper, shaking. “I’m just… I’m human.”
Evan shakes his head like I disgust him. “You’re a liability.”
The car turns again.
