Page 39 of The Moment I Knew

Hilary didn’t look at him. “She’s almost sixteen. She needs guidance.”

I felt something sink in my chest. Almost sixteen. Not old enough to decide for myself or to be left alone. My phone buzzed again.

Hilary glanced at it, then back at me. “Just call him. You’ll feel better once it’s done.”

I stared at the screen for a long second. I wouldn’t feel better, I could say that much. If I went on a date with him, it would be horrible and awkward. But if she was going to turn it into such a big deal…

I unlocked the phone and opened my message thread with Mitch. Like I thought, there were three new messages from him, pretty much all saying the same thing: he still wanted to go out with me and he didn’t care what that jerk from the coffee shop thought of it. The words made my stomach twist, having the exact opposite effect that I was sure they were supposed to, but I ignored the feeling as I typed a response.

Imogen

Fine. I’m free on Saturday.

I slammed the phone back onto the counter and stormed off to the living room. Hilary followed me undeterred and smiled. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

I mentally flipped her off.

thirteen

I was always a little disoriented when I woke up in Dad’s flat. I’d lived in the same house since we moved to Canada from the UK five years ago and was used to every little detail about it. This room had blinds instead of curtains, making light come slanting through in strips, and the air mattress—now completely deflated—was pressed up against the back wall instead of the side one like mine at home. The sheets laying limp across the top of the flat and lumpy air mattress felt different too, so silky smooth that it kept making me tense up every time I realized they were surely one of Hilary’s purchases.

I laid there for a minute before I forced myself to get out of bed. Dad was an early bird and I was sure he was in the other room, tapping his foot as he waited for me to get up so we could get started on our day. I flung the too silky sheets off my legs and hopped up, stretching my arms over my head to work out the kinks from practically sleeping on the floor. It would be worth it to spend the day with him. No Hilary, no backhanded comments, just me and Dad.

I pulled on my sweatshirt and padded out into the hallway, still half-asleep, rubbing at my eyes. The flat smelled like coffee and I inhaled deeply, already imagining having a full cup as Dad and I planned our day together. If Dad had my favorite creamer in his fridge, then this would be the start of a perfect day.

Or I thought so, until I reached the kitchen. Dad was there, like I’d expected. But instead of still being dressed in his pajamas or even in casual wear, he was in his work clothes. Crisp ironed shirt, tie half done, suit jacket hanging on the back of a table chair.

My steps slowed until I came to a complete stop as my mind processed what I was seeing. “Oh,” I said, hoping I was somehow misreading the situation.

He glanced up. “Hey, kiddo. Morning.”

My stomach sank, slow and heavy when he didn’t offer any other explanations. “I thought⁠—”

“I know,” he said quickly, tightening his tie in the mirror. Not an ounce of remorse on his face. “I was planning to. But something came up.”

I stood there, my feet cold against the floor. “You said you took the day off.”

“I did,” he said. “Mostly. I just need to go in for a bit.”

“For how long?”

He took a sip of coffee, winced like it was too hot, then took another anyway. “There’s a meeting. It shouldn’t be long.”

“That’s what you said last time,” I said, before I could stop myself. He didn’t hear me. Or maybe he chose not to.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said, already reaching for his jacket. “We’ll do breakfast another time.”

I leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Will I see you before I have to go home?”

He hesitated, just a fraction of a second. “We’ll see.”

My chest tightened. “That’s not really an answer.”

He drained the rest of his coffee and set the mug down in the sink, clinking it a little too hard. “I’ll try, okay?”

Hilary appeared in the doorway then, fully dressed, hair already perfectly coiffed. She smiled when she saw me.

“Morning, hon,” she said brightly. “Sleep okay?”