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“Oh, I have plenty to say.” I look around us as the customers go back to their meals. Satisfied with our limited privacy, I step closer, keeping my voice low. “But you’re not in the right headspace to listen, and honestly? What I have to say doesn’t matter, anyway. You don’t owe me an opportunity to explain myself, but you do owe it to your dad.”
“Don’t talk about him,” she warns.
“If you took two seconds to hear him out and give him another chance, you’d recognize he isn’t trying to hurt you, and he never would’ve lied to you or gone out of his way to piss you off the way he clearly has. He loves you, Hazel. Hell, he’s your dad.”
“So?” She scoffs and folds her arms. “He ruined any chance of us having a relationship as soon as he started dating someone my age.”
“I’m not your age,” I point out. “I’m twenty-five, Hazel. And yeah, a nine-year age gap isn’t exactly tiny, but I care about him––”
“Stop.” She raises her hand, her chest heaving. Like she can’t catch her breath. Like she can’t hold back her tears much longer. Like she’s hanging on by a thread, and I’m waving a pair of scissors around.
I don’t listen. I can’t. Because Macklin deserves an opportunity to explain himself. He deserves a chance. And Hazel’s refusing to give him one.
“Why?” I demand. “Why should I stop? It’s not like you want a relationship with him anyway. If you did, you’d answer his texts. You’d take his calls. Instead, all you’ve done is ignore him. Do you have any idea how much it kills him every time he sends you a text, and you don’t even respond?”
“Yeah, like he’s one to talk. He’s datingyou, remember?” She waves her hand at me like I’m nothing but scum.
Not sure what it has to do with our conversation, but…
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I dig deep for another ounce of patience. “He’s your father, Hazel. And he loves the crap out of you.”
Another scoff slips out of her as she shakes her head back and forth. “Oh, really?”
“Yes, Hazel. He really does.”
“Fine. Tell him it’s over. Leave my dad alone, and I’ll give him a chance to be my father again. I’ll talk to him. Call him. Even take him out to Sunday brunch if it will get you away from him.”
I jerk away as if I’ve been slapped, my mind reeling. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to break up with your dad?”
“Yeah.” She squares her shoulders like the idea sounds better and better to her as it marinates in the air around us. “I do.”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Then, I guess he can kiss his daughter goodbye. And I guarantee Miley will say the same thing when she finds out about our father’s new whore.”
Her eyes spark with determination and leave a heavy stone in my gut. Still, I ignore the jab, too distracted by the twisted predicament she’s gifted me with.
“This isn’t fair, Hazel,” I grit out.
“Yeah, I don’t give a shit.”
“Kate! Hazel!” Our manager storms toward us. “What the hell is going on?”
“Nothing,” we utter in unison, despite the fissure in my chest and how much it feels like I’m being ripped in two.
“Damn right, it’s nothing.” Anna turns to me. “Now get your shit in the breakroom. Your shift started ten minutes ago.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turn on my heel and walk away.
42
KATE
