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Before thinking twice, I pull out my phone and fire off a text to him. I don’t want to disappear, but I need time to gather my thoughts.
Me: I need to stop home. I feel bad, want to check on Dad, plus I need more clothes.
I wish so much that I was going home for support. That I had a parent who I could run to when feeling scared and unsure of the future. Why do people like Amanda exist? She adds nothing to the world. I doubt happiness is possible for somebody like her. She's too broken, too caught up in the things she doesn’t have.
The closer I get to the house, the bigger the pit in my stomach grows. I hate that this is my reaction to seeing my father. Shouldn't going home to your parents be somewhere between warm and welcoming? It should be a refuge. A haven of safety. That’s not what home with my father is. It’s anger, resentment, and sadness—none of which I need right now.
My clammy palms grip the wheel harder while I fight off another wave of nausea. Maybe it would be better to go back to Callum's, after all. No. I can't do that. I don't trust myself. My father’s the safest option. If anything, he’ll avoid me like the plague, while Callum most definitely won’t.
I pull into the driveway and notice my father’s car is missing. Relief floods my body. I wonder where he's been going, how he's passing the time without a job. I wish we could be open with each other, but he's already proven to me I can't trust him. I hate all the secrets between us, but there’s no other option.
Sliding the key into the front door lock, I brace myself against what I'm going to find inside. Did he go right back to the way things were before? It's probably better for me to assume he did, so I'm not shocked by the disarray I’ll soon be greeted by.
A sigh of relief fills the otherwise quiet space when I find the house pretty much in the same shape I left it. Could use dusting, and the dishwasher needs to be run, but it’s evident he’s been keeping on top of things. It might not mean everything's better, but he's making an effort. That counts for something.
I lean against the table. What I wouldn't give to sit down with my mom right now. I was too young to have any serious life issues when she was still with us, but of course, when you're a kid, what seems silly as an adult is a very big deal. Like finding out my best friend didn't want to be my friend anymore back in second grade. I came home crying, and Mom made hot chocolate and set out cookies. She sat with me, listened to everything I had to say, and made me feel better by being there. Her mere existence reminded me I was going to be okay, even if it didn’t feel like I’d be okay.
I run my hand over the back of the chair that used to be hers, and I close my eyes and try as hard as I can to imagine that feeling of security she so effortlessly brought to life.
What advice would she give me at this moment? I'm fresh out of college, trying to start a career, and involved with a man I love, even if it's not easy. His ex-wife has me questioning everything I thought I knew, no matter how I try to forget her nasty warning. I already know the answer.
I'm being dumb.
I'm wasting time, come to think of it. Valuable time in an empty house.
I run my hands through my hair. There’s nothing I can do about the baby. I’m already pregnant, and that’s not changing. I have to tell Callum, soon. The other issue is finding out the truth about my mom’s death. So far, Dad hasn't given me any proof or evidence of his claims. What if there's something here at the house? He doesn't have an office anymore, at least not one outside these walls.
Seeing the locked basement door makes a light bulb go off in my head. I shouldn't, right? Then again, he shouldn't have called the landlord and told him I wouldn't be moving in. Not that I'm trying to be vindictive. I'm only trying to remind myself that he has never valued my privacy, so why should I respect his? Nothing else really matters. I have to see for myself what he’s so sure about.
With my heart in my throat, I dig through the kitchen junk drawer before finding the spare skeleton key that's always been in there. I can't shake the sense of betrayal as I use it to unlock the door to his home office. This is important, however. I have to remember that. It's bigger than all of us.
