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Manning and I had been doing so well. The thought that he’d let anything come between us anymore—especially things we’d already defeated, like my family and his, and the stupidity of perfection—angered me. “You sound like a middle school inspirational poster,” I said, hoping it came out as bitchy as I meant it to.
“If you can tell me with complete sincerity that you have absolutely no desire for them to be there, then I’ll accept that,” he said. “You can’t know how badly I want to marry you, and I’m not willing to let them come between us again. But you should know that I’m going to talk to your father before we do this. And Tiffany, too.”
I turned to look down at him, my face heating. “How can you go to him for permission? Of course he’ll say no. He never wanted us together, and in case you’ve forgotten, he got his way on that issue for a very long time.”
“It’s not permission. It’s respect.”
“Why? Why do you care what they think?”
“Maybe they don’t mean anything to you anymore, but they were my family once, too.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “This is important to me, Lake.”
“What should be important to you is the fact that you and I lost several years together thanks to him. Thanks to both of them. Is that the kind of family you want?”
“I know it’s easier to think this is all their fault, but it isn’t.” He grabbed his underwear, probably sensing our canoodling was done for the night. The way he was headed, he might even be sleeping on the couch. “I made my own decisions back then, and your father had less impact on those decisions than you think.”
Definitely the couch. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re failing miserably,” I shot back as I turned to blow out the candles.
“I want you to put this behind you,” he said. “Your old man’s stubborn, and he’s not going to give in.”
If I’d known the marriage topic would veer into such dangerous territory as my family, I never would’ve broached it. Although I held lingering resentment for the fact that my father had gone out of his way to keep us apart, what really angered me was that he couldn’t admit to his mistakes, respect my decision not to attend USC, and try to reconcile with me. He’d let a stupid cluster of buildings come between us.
I pulled one pillow from under Manning and then another, tossing them on the couch as I kept my chin high. “So why do I have to be the one to bridge the gap?”
“Because pride isn’t a good enough reason to ruin a relationship with the man who raised you—a man who only ever wanted what was best for you.”
“I think you’re forgetting one thing,” I said, holding the throw closed with one hand as I deconstructed Manning’s bed of pillows—and our romantic night. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, either. It’s not all my stubbornness.”
“Your dad misses you.” He got up and pulled on his underwear. “I’ve been saying it for years. I’d never encourage you to reconcile with him if I didn’t believe that.”
I turned to put out the fire, which I’d only done a couple times. I picked up the poker I’d seen Manning use and hesitated. He watched silently, which was almost worse than arguing with me. It was hard to ignore him when he wasn’t speaking.
Finally, he came and took the poker from me. “I know how much his rejection hurts you, but I believe he wants to be back in your life as much as you believe he doesn’t.”
“Then explain to me why he still hasn’t been able to pick up the phone. I’m finally on a ‘respectable’ career path by his standards. Why hasn’t that been enough of a reason to reach out?”
“Let me ask you this,” Manning said, crossing his arms, “what could Charles possibly say to excuse his behavior the past decade and a half?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m sure that’s what he thinks as well. Like you, he’s convinced there’s too big a gulf between you.”
“There is.” I picked up the dregs of our whisky. “I can’t even believe you’re bringing this up now. I was so excited to talk about us—our future—and now all I can think about is them. I thought you understood. I thought you were on my side.”
“I’m always on your side, Lake, and that’s why I’m pushing this. Not because it’d make me happy, even though it would. It’s because I want you to be happy. You can’t hide the fact that you miss your family forever.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I said, turning to leave the room. On my way out, I added, “You don’t see me asking you to reconcile with your father so I can have a perfect wedding full of family fun.”
