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“You're old enough to understand that people say things all the time in a moment of anger or frustration. How often did you tell me you wished I was dead when you were a teenager who wanted her way? You were downright nasty.”
“That's different. I was young and just coming into my feelings.”
“All I'm saying is, did you really want me dead? If you said that one night and woke up the next morning to find me gone, would you have regretted saying it? I think you would have. Now, the situation with your mom and me was somewhat different. She made it her mission to make me miserable, and if I hated her, it was because of her actions. That still doesn't mean I was waiting for her to die or happy when I found her dead. Believe me. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was horrified and sad. I'm still sad. I might not have loved your mom at the end of her life, but I loved her once. Enough to have you. What she went through, the experience, it was a terrible way to go—and even worse because it meant you never got the chance to build a better relationship with her.”
It damn near breaks my heart when she scoffs. “Yeah, well, she didn't want me anyway. She made that very clear when she was alive.”
“But there's nothing wrong with hoping she would one day. I would never judge you for that.” This time, she doesn't pull away when I reach out to touch her shoulder. “And it makes me sorry for her, so sorry. She’s the one who missed out. You have been the one singular bright spot in my life since the day you were born. And every day I've spent watching you grow has been a privilege. I'm in awe of the woman you've become—no, really,” I insist when she rolls her eyes. “I'm not just saying that. I mean it with all my heart. You’re the one good thing that has ever come out of my existence.”
“Until now, right? You have another chance at a family. You can start over.”
“You've been my family all along. My relationship with Bianca isn't meant to fill in some imaginary gap in my life. I'm not trying to replace you, not with her, and not with another baby.”
Her nose goes red first, and I know what that means. Tears are on the way, no matter how hard she tries to blink them back. “I don't know where I belong anymore. Nothing feels right anymore.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” To hell with giving her space. What she needs right now is to be held by someone who loves her. Her head hits my shoulder the instant my arms encircle her trembling form. “What I wouldn't give to take all this away from you. All my money, the business, everything. So long as it meant you could be happy again.”
“I don't know if I can take it anymore.”
“Take what?” I ask, rubbing her back. Damn, she's so thin. I know better than to comment on it, but feeling her ribs through her sweatshirt leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“Everything. All of it. I feel so broken. I can't even remember who I used to be. It’s like that person doesn’t exist anymore, like she never did.”
“You're still Tatum. You're still my beautiful, brilliant girl.”
“But I'm not, Daddy. I'm not her anymore.”
“Then we'll get you back to that place. We'll find a way. A map to guide you back to where you want to be. I know I haven't done a great job of helping you so far. I'm flailing around just as much as you are. I don't know exactly how to help you or what would be best. But we have to try, both of us. I need you to meet me halfway. I need you to try even if you don't feel like it. Or else nothing's ever going to change. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”
“I know.”
“And you can do that on your own time,” I make sure to add so she doesn't feel like I'm pressuring her.Am I doing this right? Am I making a hopeless disaster of the whole thing?I wish I knew. If there's one thing fatherhood has taught me, it's that there's no instruction manual. And as incredible as she is, she's never made it easy.
“I'm only making things miserable for you and Bianca.” She pulls her sleeve down to wipe her nose, sniffling. “I don't want to be a burden on you guys. You deserve to be happy and have so much to look forward to.”
Slowly, the meaning behind her words sinks into my brain. “What are you trying to say?” The hand rubbing her back goes still.
“I mean… I’ve been thinking… And maybe I should leave, go off and do my own thing.”
“No. Honey, I want you here. We both do.”
“I’m just in the way. I'm so damn tired and sad and scared all the time—every day. And I see you guys, and I see how happy she is, and I think to myself she's been through a lot of tough shit, too, and she's not falling apart the way I am. Something must be wrong with me. Why don't I get to be happy, too? Where’s my happily ever after and knight in shining armor?”
“Honey, there's nothing wrong with falling apart. We have to fall apart sometimes. It’s how we grow and become resilient to the shit life throws at us. You’ll find happiness. I know it’s hard to believe at the moment, but you will. There’s a man out there for you and a future and happiness.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really am, but every day I see you together, and every time there's a new announcement like there was today, it makes me feel worse.” Slowly, she detaches herself from me. “This is what I want. What I need.”
This is the worst possible idea she could come up with. If she can't keep herself together while she's under my roof, and in my care, how the hell is she going to do it by herself? Then again, is it cruel to force her to stay when I know how unhappy it makes her to be here?
It’s the hope shining in her teary eyes that makes the decision for me. I can’t extinguish that. Not when it’s the first time I’ve seen hope in her eyes in weeks. Months, even.
“This is something we're going to have to work out together,” I decide, speaking slowly, choosing my words carefully. At any other time, under any other circumstances, I would shut the idea down immediately and leave it there. That's exactly what I want to do now. My first impulse is to say no, but I know that would only push her further away, and I don’t want to lose her, not any more than I already have.
The surprise in her raised eyebrows confirms how out of character this is for me. “Seriously? You mean it?”
“I do. I'm not going to keep you prisoner if you don't want to be here, but I'm telling you it would make me a lot more comfortable if you would stay. I would prefer you stay for as long as you need to until you feel secure getting on your feet, but I respect your choice, and your need for space, and if you decide to come back, the door is always open.”
I have to laugh at myself, especially since she’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head or something. “I'm trying, kid. I'm really trying. But don't be surprised if I call you every day and ask when you're coming back—if you decide to leave.”
