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I frown. “It’s my father.” A man I thought was ignoring me out of shame but is here. He could be coming to scold me, but the little girl constantly seeking his approval inside me is willing to take the risk.
“Your father who hired Roman.”
My frown deepens. That’s true. Father’s also the man who hasn’t called his daughter though he certainly knows she left her husband. “I didn’t call and tell him.”
“Yet you know that he knows.”
That’s correct. Father talks to Roman more than to me, and Roman isn’t going to risk their work relationship by not being open about the divorce. Cannon’s gaze narrows on the rearview mirror. He hasn’t removed his hand from my arm. I sap his heat and his strength while I can.
Father glances around and strides to my side of the car. Cannon releases me and I take it as permission to get out.
I open the door and greet my father. There’s no shade in front of Mother’s place. The sun beats down on us. I keep my sunglasses in place and clench my fists so I don’t nibble on a nail.
“Brittany let me in to talk to you,” he says. He always calls her Brittany. Never your mother or your mom. I attribute it to the cold way he grew up. I met my grandparents on his side once and that was all I needed.
“Okay?” His greeting is better than starting with, What were you thinking?
Cannon gets out but stays on his side of the vehicle. Father’s pale-blue eyes flick to him, then back. “He’s the bodyguard?”
“He’s more effective than he looks.”
“So Brittany said.” He and Mother had a discreet, amicable divorce. I don’t think Father is like Roman, but I think he’s just as emotionless. “Can we talk somewhere private?”
I look at Cannon. After he saved me twice, I’m not doing anything without his permission.
Cannon openly gauges my father in return. “I’ll walk around the grounds and check everything out.”
“Thank you.” I need the space.
Father doesn’t make a move toward the house. He and Mother might get along, but he doesn’t like to linger in any one spot for long. Especially not with me. “You’re divorcing Roman.”
He’s not exactly asking, but I say, “Yes.”
“You’re going to go through with it?”
Why would he ask that? Does he think I’ll scare myself out of being single? Other than Father’s early misgivings, we’ve never talked about Roman, definitely not what it was like to be married to him. “Yes. The marriage was cold and empty, and he’s a horrible man. I don’t know why he married me in the first place.”
“Did he… Has he…abused you?” His voice nearly shakes, and he’s hanging on my answer, concern bright in his eyes.
Shock ripples through me. I didn’t realize how worried I was he wouldn’t care. I answer honestly. “He’s an insulting prick who cares about nothing but himself and his money. Otherwise, he didn’t spare me enough attention to hit me.”
Father nods as if that settles one internal struggle. “If I stay in business with him, how will that make you feel?”
Does that mean Father’s willing to part ways? Because of me? “It’s your business. You’ve made it clear I have no say in it.”
“Brittany and I only wanted you to learn to be self-sufficient.”
I’m so tired of hearing that as an excuse. What about I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you? I’m sorry we abandoned you? Just plain, I’m sorry but I love you?
But his regret is new. “Maybe having a father who acted like his daughter wasn’t a hapless, helpless nuisance would’ve helped with that.” I can’t believe I’m speaking to him like this. But it feels even more freeing than when I spoke like this to Cannon. Was that the practice I needed? “Then maybe I wouldn’t have grown up with daddy issues and married a guy close to your age who’s as cold and unfeeling as you were to me growing up. Joke’s on me. I got even less compassion and approval from Roman.”
So many emotions ripple over Father’s face. Shock, regret, anger. I fold my arms to hug myself. My bravery goes only so far. I’m ready for his retaliation. No one talks to Father like I just did.
With a disapproving tone, he says, “You refuse to take responsibility for your decisions?”
I roll my eyes as my hope crashes back to earth. “As long as you keep refusing to take responsibility for yours.”
He recoils but dips his head. Several moments go by. “You’ll be able to support yourself?”
