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Thinking about it, it could be worse. I could be homeless, living in my car, while looking for work instead of going to college. Dealing with Vance’s taunts, and verbal bullshit was something I could handle, as long as I had somewhere to rest my head at night. The only person I worried about now was my father.

“It wasn’t that bad, and I’m enjoying being here with you even though we haven’t been able to spend much time together.”

She smiles, her eyes getting misty. “Awe, honey I don’t deserve a daughter like you.”

No, you don’t, I want to say, but don’t. Then the waitress comes by the table and takes our orders. We make small talk about the design of my bedroom and how she wants us to do something together each week to make up for lost time. And because I’m desperate for her affection and love, I agree.

Once our stomachs are filled with more carbs than a human should be allowed to consume, she calls for the check. Our day together is coming to an end and the reality of what awaits me once we get home falls heavily on my shoulders. Being with my mom was an easy distraction from the chaos, but I know once we get home, shit is going to hit the fan.

I bite my tongue, stopping myself from asking her anything about it. Maybe she doesn’t know that they told Vance something different than what happened. She probably wouldn’t care anyway, and only tell me to move on, to get over it, that it’s in the past and can’t be rewritten.

But is it really the past if it’s affecting your future?

“You look lost in thought, is something bothering you?” My mother’s voice rings in my ears and for a moment, I forgot where I was, becoming so wrapped up in my thoughts.

I clear my throat drawing myself back to the present. “I was just wondering why Vance’s parents got a divorce.” I try not to sound too eager, mainly just curious.

“Why…” My mother blinks slowly. “Why would you ask something like that?” Suddenly she seems nervous.

“Oh, no reason really. Just looking for something else to bond with Vance over. He’s a hard nut to crack.” I smile, but it’s forced, and I hope she can’t tell.

“Ahh, well truthfully…I do not know. Henry and I never talk about his and Meg’s marriage. We’re beyond in love. Why worry about the past anyway?”

I want to scream at her…to tell her that Vance and I are currently living in the past because of her and Henry’s selfishness, but I don’t. What’s the point? She doesn’t care, and if she does know something, it’s obvious she isn’t going to tell me. The only way to get the answers that I want and need is to go to Vance.

“You’re right. Let the past be the past, right?”

My mother smiles, and it’s dazzling, happiness filling her eyes. “That’s right. Continue forward, not backward.”

I can’t help but think about the fact that both of them got what they wanted, they ruined two families, and still ended up happily together and that’s the lesson here, I suppose. If you shit on enough people, you’ll always find a way to come out on top.

What kind of person shits on their family though?

Chapter Fourteen

Vance

Somehow we make it through a whole game of golf without really speaking. I mean it’s not like we just stare at each other or anything, but he doesn’t ask me how I’m doing, or how it’s been with him gone.

He’s changed.

It wasn’t really noticeable before, but since Laura came into his life, he’s almost pushed me out of the picture, only dealing with me when he feels he has to. All my life, I’ve looked up to him, wanting to be like him, but now it feels like I’ve lost my compass, and I don’t know which way to go. I can’t look up to a man that’s lied to me for years, that’s responsible for my anger, my pain. Fuck, I can’t even imagine how Ava must feel right now. She knows now that I had no idea, but that doesn’t mean I can take anything back.

All the things I’ve said and done to her. Just thinking about it, and knowing that I placed the blame on the wrong person this whole time it makes me sick, physically and emotionally. There’s no amount of pleading and begging, there are no words I can say to make her forgive me.

The question I want to ask has been sitting impatiently on the tip of my tongue for the last three hours, but I can’t bring myself to actually ask him. I’ve analyzed every way this could go, and I still don’t have the balls to ask him.

Mainly because I’m not ready to admit it to myself… but the truth is… I’m scared. Afraid to hear my father’s answer. Sure there isn’t shit he could say that would make any of this better or change the damage that’s been done, but I need this, to hear him, to hear the truth spoken out loud, because right now all this feels like is a nightmare I’m never going to wake up from.

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