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“I thought you would never hurt me, Dad.”
“I’m not. I’m protecting you. I don’t want to lose you, Angel.”
“No, you’re breaking me right now. Because I’ll never be happy with either choice. If I choose him, I’ll be unhappy and eventually hate him for coming between us. And if I choose you, I’ll hate you for taking away the one person who not only accepts me for who I am but also understands me and likes me for it. So congrats, Dad. You’ll lose me either way.”
She fumbles with the door handle and storms out of the room, but her hiccups and sniffles stay with me long after she’s gone.
I run a hand over my face and expel a large breath. Seeing her cry is like being sliced open from the inside out.
Even when she was a baby and had to cry now and again, I did my best to stop the flow of her tears. It fucks me up even more now that she’s an adult.
When I woke up, she told me that she didn’t let anyone touch what was mine, but she let Nate touch the most important thing.
Her.
So even though she’s in pain, I won’t console her like I usually do. I won’t bring her tea and joke around until she smiles again. This is out of necessity. To protect her.
Which reminds me that I need to protect her from her fucking mother, too.
The snake who couldn’t just fucking disappear like she did the night she threw her own daughter away.
34
Gwyneth
Dad came up with a plan.
Or more like expulsion.
He told Nate to go to the Seattle branch of W&S; it’s been around for a couple of years and has been growing noticeably. That way, he can stay away from me.
It’s not that Dad cares about the Seattle branch, it’s that he wants to separate us with everything he has.
Over the past week, he’s been setting things in motion for the separation of property and threatened Nate to shred the power of attorney agreement. Nate did it because he’s been mostly placating Dad. Besides, he doesn’t need power of attorney now that all properties legally belong to my father.
Then Dad insisted that he divorce me, and that’s when Nate said no. He also said no to leaving because, “Fuck you, King.”
Those were his exact words the other day.
I don’t see him much anymore, because Dad has kicked up the overprotectiveness a notch. Obviously, I intern with him now and he takes me everywhere, including to his ruthless showdowns with Susan that he usually doesn’t want me to witness. Then we go home together and he keeps watching me with that cold stare of his.
Something changed in Dad after the coma.
At first, I thought it was because he found out about me and Nate and lost it, but there’s something else.
There’s a troubled look in his gaze and agitation in his soul that seems to be consuming him. He’s harsher now, more ruthless than I’ve ever witnessed before. Though he was probably like this to the outside world before, he’d never directed it at me. It’s not that he’s stern with me—he’s still my dad, in a way, but he’s also become merciless.
His weird sense of smell has kicked up to higher levels, too. The other day, I crossed paths with Nate in the hall and we touched hands, since that’s all we can do now, and Dad smelled him on me. No kidding, he said, “Why the fuck is the bastard’s cologne on you?”
So yeah, something is up.
It’s almost like that time before his accident when he was disheveled and out of sorts. Fear that events will repeat themselves again keeps me up at night, roaming the house like a ghost. Especially with the way he dismissed foul play to be the reason behind his accident.
He said it’d been a while since he’d had maintenance done on his car, but the tone of his voice was wrong.
Everything is wrong now.
Not only do Dad and I have a gap between us, but also Nate and I keep growing apart.
