Page 109 of Spring Break Fling

She hesitated, then sighed. “I couldn’t understand why they didn’t fight for us sooner. I felt abandoned. And my grandparents—well, they weren’t exactly nurturing. They tried to ‘fix’ me, and that just made everything worse. I felt like my parents wanted the vacation. They didn’t try and get us back because they were enjoying their freedom. I was pissed.”

“That’s rough,” I said.

She nodded. “It took years of therapy to untangle all the knots. My parents and I went together when I was seventeen, and while it wasn’t easy, it helped. Now, we’re in a pretty good place. My sister and I decided a while ago that we weren’t going to let the past rob us of the present we could have with them.”

“Smart,” I said, genuinely impressed.

“Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed,” she added softly.

I stared at her for a moment, absorbing her words. “You’re a better person than me,” I admitted. “I don’t think I could ever forgive my old man. Of course, he would never go to therapy either.”

She turned, leaning her hip against the counter. “You forgive for you, Nikko, not for him. Carrying anger and hate in your heart hurts you. Eventually, I realized it wasn’t worth it. I wanted to love my parents, to make more memories with them. In your case, maybe forgiveness isn’t the answer. Maybe you just want to let him go.”

“I think that would be the safer choice,” I said with a snort. “You were still young when your parents figured out they were doing it wrong. My dad still can’t admit he’s done anything wrong. He still thinks I’m the problem. That I’m too big for my britches and acting like I’m too good for them. But I am too good for them. I don’t understand why he can’t figure shit out. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. I don’t want to be dragged into that shit. It took a lot of work to break free the first time.”

Hannah leaned against me, her hand still holding the knife. Even with her hands occupied, she managed to make me feel better with the physical connection. “Sometimes walking away is the healthiest choice.”

The timer dinged, breaking the moment. Hannah pulled the lasagna from the oven. The rich aroma of tomato sauce and herbs filled the small kitchen. “Ready to meet the parents?” she asked.

“Not even a little.”

She gave me a onceover.

“This is as good as it gets,” I said with a laugh. “If you want me to go out a window or hide in a closet, I would understand.”

“Absolutely not,” she said. “I’m very happy to have you meet them. I want you to see where I came from and maybe you’ll understand a little more about me.”

“So they’re hippy types?”

“They are.”

“Baby, you are about the furthest thing from a hippy I’ve ever seen.”

“Exactly. I had to get away. I wanted to be the exact opposite of them, which is why I am the way I am.”

I stepped closer, resting my hands on her hips. She tilted her head up to look at me, her lips quirked in a teasing smirk.

“You’re a rebel with a cause,” I teased.

“I guess you could say that.”

“I feel like I’m a rebel without a cause,” I said.

Her phone chimed. She groaned and shook her head. “I knew it.”

“You knew what?”

“That’s my mom’s ringtone. How much do you want to bet they are running late or are going to cancel?”

“Really?” I asked. “Aren’t they supposed to be here in twenty minutes?”

“Yep, but that’s what they do.” She sighed.

“And why you are always on time or early.”

She nodded. “Exactly.”

She walked over to get her phone.