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At least I’ve won one of my girls back.
“What was that about?” I say.
She stays in my arms, though, just like she used to when she was a little girl. “Because. I don’t want Eliza to stop talking to me just because you were a mammoth jerk—”
“Come on. I don’t think she’d shut you out.”
“She hasn’t texted since we left her house that day...” Destiny looks down.
“I suppose that was my fault,” I admit. “I told her you weren’t allowed to talk to her. I scared her away when she was just trying to help.”
I feel a phantom boot pressing into my gut.
She goes quiet before raking me with a slow, worried look.
“I’ve also been worried about you, Dad. Like what happens when I go off to college? You’ll be all alone. I hated the thought, but then you found Eliza and I just...I thought you’d finally be okay.”
My daughter has the heart of an angel.
I hug her, stroking her hair like I did when she was a toddler. I’m perfectly aware I don’t have many moments like this left.
“Destiny, it’s not your place to worry about me once you’re gone. I take care of you,” I say firmly. “Never the other way around. Not until I’m eighty years old and drooling from a morphine drip. Okay? I’m fine. I’ll make it right with Eliza because I care about her and it’s the right thing to do. Still, if she doesn’t want me in her life after what I pulled, that’s not your problem. I’ll survive either way. You’ll still go off to school and start your life. I’ll be here in this cloudy damn city, growling at people and running my company the best I can.”
“And you’ll never eat or sleep without someone at home to tell you to do it,” she says, laughing.
“I’ll set alarms.”
She laughs. “Whatever. Thanks for the pep talk, Dad.”
I let her go and tap my phone. I normally spend these long commutes reading office emails because it saves me time.
But there’s a message in my inbox I’m not expecting.
I’m not prepared for it. The subject line is Resignation Notice.
The message couldn’t be clearer.
I can take my job and go straight to hell. Eliza is already off to San Diego.
She’s already left the lab.
She won’t be checking messages.
I lost my chance to mend anything without even knowing it.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“What’s wrong?” Destiny leans over my shoulder, her eyes wide.
I still have the email open. She must catch just enough before I angrily close the app and shove my phone against my leg.
“Oh. Oh, shit,” she whispers.
The word isn’t angry. It’s exasperated and sad.
“Language,” I warn, sucking a breath between my teeth and releasing it slowly. “Maybe I can catch her before she leaves.”
“She’s not going to talk to you now, Dad.” She slaps her thighs. “Ugh, I hate this.”
“I thought you wanted me to try?”
“I did. I do, but now it just seems hopeless. I’m sorry.”
I grind my teeth, hating that she might be right.
Unless I get my jet ready for an overnight trip to California, I’ve lost Eliza and I have no one to blame but my own jackass self.
“I’m sorry,” I add because I know Destiny is just as devastated.
“We’ll survive, I guess. Eventually.” She sighs, flicking her hair over her shoulder in irritation. “But Uncle Troy was right.”
I look at her slowly.
When did she talk to Troy?
“About what?” I ask neutrally.
“...eh, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You and Troy talk a lot lately.” I hope my nonconfrontational tone pulls something out of her. His name has been coming up a lot lately, and I need to understand why.
I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the attention he’s been giving my daughter, even if he’s just trying to be helpful.
I’ve known him forever, and that’s the problem.
Troy might be a decent man and one hell of a workhorse, but he’s not anyone who should be handing out major life advice. Not when he’s a lone wolf who never fully grew up and got his own shit together.
“What was he right about, Destiny?” I work to keep my words gentle.
“Everything.” She locks her hands together, wiggling her fingers.
Shit.
She looks like she’s on the verge of tears.
I pull the privacy screen up.
“Baby girl, what was he right about?”
“H-he’s just—” She rolls her shoulders and a tear slides down her face. “He’s been helping me, okay?”
Now, I definitely need to know.
“Helping you with what?”
“He—he told me I don’t have to dwell on Mom’s suicide. She was part of my life once, but that’s over and it’s nobody’s fault, Dad. What happened to her doesn’t have to ruin my life—or ours. I need to put it behind me and...and I have.” Tears stream down her face. She sniffs and wipes them away with the back of her hand. “I’ve been coming to terms with it. I just wish you would too. If you had, none of this would’ve happened.”
