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“No,” he responded. “I need you to sign some papers.”
“What papers?” I said.
“Just some stuff with the trust,” he said offhandedly.
I was immediately suspicious, and my gut told me to say no. “Can you be more specific?” I asked.
He scowled, practically growled at me, and I wanted to recoil. Managed to stay still, but I couldn’t deny that I felt the weight of his disappointment. It fit like a glove, and those old feelings, especially the guilt, came back like they had never left.
I knew he could see that guilt on my face, just as I knew he wouldn’t give up a chance to exploit it.
He started slow, his face turning down in a frown, then shifting to disgust.
“You would question me after all I’ve done for you?” he wished.
“I-I’m not trying to question you—”
He shook his head, cutting me off. “You are, but it’s my fault for being surprised. For expecting better for you.”
My first inclination was to argue, as I had done some many times before, to try to convince him he was wrong, to prove that I was worthy.
For the first time in my life, I ignored that instinct.
Realized it didn’t matter.
Realized that being away from him, and as soon as possible, was the only thing that mattered.
“Fine,” I said.
I took the pen, scribbled my name quickly, and then handed it back to him.
“My copies?” I asked, unable to resist giving that very small pushback.
“Of what?” he responded.
“Of the papers I just signed,” I said.
“Oh. I’ll send you a scan,” he said.
“Fine,” I whispered.
We went silent then, and it occurred to me that I hadn’t been much of a challenge.
But then again, he hadn’t been expecting one.
Not really.
After all, he’d had my entire life to mold me, so he didn’t need to expend too much effort.
“Well, I wanted to stay and chat, but I have—”
“It was good to see you, Daddy,” I said, cutting him off.
A lie, something that he knew as well as I did.
But he just smiled, then grabbed his briefcase.
“Bye, Amy.”
