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BIANCA
A car door opens and closes outside and my heart lurches. Immediately I fold up the lease agreement I've been studying since I got home, ready to tuck it under the sofa cushion before Dad comes in from dinner with his ex-partner from the police station. He’s usually in a good mood after the two of them spend hours swapping old stories, but that doesn’t mean he’d be in any mood to know I’m ready to move out again.
I wait, holding my breath. When a minute passes without him opening the door, all I can do is laugh at myself for being so jumpy. I’m an adult, with a job and capable of making my own choices, yet when it comes to my father, it seems I have no choices.
Ever since Tatum was here last week, I haven’t been able to stop replaying what she said about me giving up my life. She's absolutely right—it's so easy for me to forget about myself. I can't let my father’s problems become my own. He's dead set on hurting himself, drinking too much, and obsessing over making Callum pay for what he may or may not have done. That's up to him. I can't sacrifice everything I want for myself in the meantime.
Guilt clings to my pores at the thought, but I’ll have to get over it. I have my own life to live, which means I need to pull up my big girl panties, sign the lease and move out. Of course, I missed out on the perfect place in town, where I was planning on signing before I had second thoughts.
Imagine if I had kept going instead of turning around and crossing the street. How different would everything be right now? Lucas would still be alive. The darkness clinging to me wouldn’t feel so suffocating. I guess that’s the truth about every choice we make in life. If we had slept in just a few minutes longer or decided to go out for that drink with friends. Every choice gets us to this very defining moment in time, and no matter how much we might want to go back in time and make a different choice, that’s not an option. All a person can do is move forward.
I steer my attention back to scanning the contract and wonder if I should get somebody to look at it for me. Just to be certain I'm not being taken advantage of. It's the sort of thing I would ask Dad about, but I’m not ready to share this with him yet. Not until everything's ready to go, and there's nothing he can say or do to stop me.
I hate having to think about him that way, except his already unbearable overprotectiveness is operating in overdrive. Just last night, he told me to call and let him know when I'm on my way home from work. It’s as if he wants to make sure I'm not sneaking off somewhere or getting myself into trouble. I might as well be living with Callum all over again.
The simple thought of him makes me ache the way it has the several days since he ambushed me in the parking garage. He hasn't tried to contact me since then, and I should be grateful. This is what I wanted, for him to leave me alone. However, in some ways, it's the last thing I want. His absence makes me crave him more. Callum claims he’ll never let me go, that we aren’t over, and that he won’t stop trying to make me see that we’re meant to be. Nevertheless, no matter what happens, I won’t be able to forget that he lied to me. Hid from me that he was still married.
If it wasn’t a big deal, why hide it?
No, I didn’t ask but I shouldn’t have to. If he was still married, he should’ve at least warned me. The more I think about it, the deeper my anger runs. Callum wasn’t ever going to tell me, and I need to learn to accept that. I need to make peace with it and move on. It's time for a fresh start.
Does it hurt? Of course. I would rather be with Callum than without him. But not if it means spending the rest of my life in this constant tug of war. Back and forth, never knowing what's going to happen next. It all depends on the mood he's in, and that can change from minute to minute. He's the most unpredictable person I've ever known, and it exhausts me. I deserve better than that. And maybe if I keep repeating that to myself enough times, I'll start to believe it. Time heals all wounds, but a broken heart? That I’m not so sure of. That’s not even taking into account the information my father shared with me. If I don’t ask Callum about it, I'll never get an answer. Although, the truth terrifies me. What if he killed my mom? I don’t want to know the answer, but I need to know it.
