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“Shhh, beautiful. It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out,” Vance assures, his green eyes soft, his lips smooth, full. I focus on those lips, imagining how they felt against mine, how I want to kiss him again now.
Vance clears his throat, a gentle smile on his lips. “Why don’t we go home and see if we can get some more information. Maybe we can call the rehab facility he was at? Ask your mom if there’s anything we can do?”
My chest stops heaving, and I feel less like I’m going to pass out now.
“Good idea,” I quip.
Truthfully, I know I need to keep a leveled head about this, driving around like a crazed person looking for him isn’t going to fix this, even though it feels like losing my shit would be the easiest solution right now.
“Why don’t you get in the passenger seat and I’ll drive us home?” Vance suggests while already guiding me to the other side of the car.
I should push him away, tell him I can take care of myself, but when I reach up to swipe some loose strands of hair away from my face, I notice how much my hand is shaking. Even as stubborn as I am, I know it’s best to just let Vance do the driving.
“What about your car? Didn’t you drive here?”
“I can get it later, don’t worry about that,” he says, his voice oddly reassuring and calm, too calm. He opens the door for me and helps me inside before reaching over to buckle me in. Part of me wants to push him away and tell him to stop but the other part, the part that is winning right now, is taking comfort in him taking care of me.
The drive home goes by in a blur, and I continue to dial my dad’s number in hopes that he turned his phone back on, but all I get is his voicemail. By the time Vance parks the car in the driveway, I must have called him at least thirty times.
He kills the engine and I get out of the car, thankfully without his help. I’m weak enough as it is right now, anymore of his touch and I’ll be a melted piece of butter on the pavement.
“I’m going to call the rehab facility my dad was staying at and see when he checked out and why,” I mutter out loud, more to myself than Vance who is walking up to the house beside me. I don’t want his help, not really. He’s done enough horrible shit to me, the last thing I need to do is make myself look even more fragile.
As soon as I open the front door, I can hear my mother’s chatter coming from the kitchen. I follow her voice like it’s a beacon of light, my feet dragging across the floor.
“Mom, something happened,” I blurt out when she looks up at me. My heart hammers inside my chest.
“Susan, I’m going to have to call you back,” she tells her friend and hangs up, worry creasing her forehead. “What’s wrong?”
I’m vaguely aware of Vance’s presence beside me. It makes me feel stronger, and less like the delicate piece of glass seconds away from shattering that I am.
“Dad… he… he called me, he checked out of rehab, and he didn’t sound good. He was drunk and saying weird stuff. I’m really worried about him. He hasn’t reached out to me since I left and…” My mother’s expression changes from concern to annoyance and my voice trails off at the sudden change.
“Ava, I know you worry about your father, and that’s fine and all, but he’s an adult. A grown man. It’s not your job to worry and take care of him. We helped him get into that facility for you, and only you. I know it’s hard, but he had his chance. There is nothing else we can do for him. There’s no helping someone that doesn’t want to help themselves.”
Panic grips onto my heart, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care. Why am I not surprised?
“There must be something…he needs me,” I whine.
“He needs therapy, but therapy only works if he wants it to work and by leaving the facility we sent him to, he’s proven he doesn’t want care, nor does he want to get better. He needs to help himself, Ava.”
She’s right, I know that, but she doesn’t have to be so cruel. Had her and Henry made a different choice, had they not been so selfish, maybe this never would’ve happened.
“I don’t care. I’m still going to call the rehab facility and ask them what happened,” I tell her.
She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything else. Not that I would expect her to. She’s said all that she has to say. Turning, I exit the kitchen and head for the staircase with Vance hot on my heels.
