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I open the door to find a much different man on the other side… my dad.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Whitney, we need to talk,” he says in a serious manner.
I expected him to call me last night, but he didn’t, and when I did, he didn’t pick up. I could have gone to his house, but I didn’t have the energy. I needed time to mourn the end of my relationship with Maddox, and had no emotional fuel left.
I gesture for him to come in, and he follows me into my living room. The bright morning light casts over the marbled tile and soft rugs. I should ask if he wants coffee and make some myself, but this isn’t a social visit.
This is a what-were-you-thinking visit.
He sits on the couch, and I choose the accent chair across from him. “You know, I’ve tried being open with you. And I expected you to do the same with me.”
I take a deep breath. My dad would have been all kinds of disturbed if I told him as a teenager I crushed on his best friend. He would have sent me away, to some boarding school overseas maybe, and certainly ended his friendship with Maddox right then. “I apologize for not telling you. I didn’t tell you about Maddox because I knew you wouldn’t react in a positive way.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Can you blame me? He’s my friend. And much older than you.”
“When you introduced Harper to me, I was open and graceful. I could have reacted poorly like so many girls my age would have. Asked more questions. Doubted her intentions,” I say, and after I hear my own words, I detect a touch of snarkiness. Shit, I don’t want to make things worse or sound defensive.
He lets out a sigh of exhaustion. Poor Dad. “So that means I stop being your father and wanting what’s best for you?”
I want to reach out to him and give him a hug, but this conversation needs to move along. Maybe if I try to show him my side… maybe he’ll understand. “No. I just… Harper makes you happy. Why can’tIbe happy with whoever I want?” I ask, injecting more softness in my voice.
He stares at me in silence for a moment that stretches between us. Then, finally, he rocks back in the couch and says, “I guess. I feel betrayed by both of you,” he says, then looks up at the ceiling.
I cross my legs, then uncross them. No perfect position will make me comfortable right now. I settle for folding my legs one over the other. “Rightfully so. None of us wanted to hurt you. Trust me, if anything I was too aggressive toward Maddox,” I add that last part with determination in my voice. I’m not sure Maddox mentioned it to him or not, but why should he be the only one in the hot seat? Especially when I pursued him like there was no tomorrow.
My father recomposes his posture on the couch, and glances at me, lifting his eyebrow. “He took full blame.”
I shake my head. “Of course. Because he’s a good guy. But I’m not some helpless teenager.”
He runs his hands over his face. “I know.”
“If that makes you feel better, he broke up with me last night.”
A hint of a smile pulls at his lips. “Good.”
It’s my turn to shake my head. I understand he’s disappointed at us, but isn’t there any part of him that wonders how that made me feel? Or am I expecting too much? “For who? For you? Because it’s not for me, and deep down I doubt it’ll be good for him,” I say, sadness crackling in my voice.
Dad squares his shoulders, the leans over to me, touching my arm. “Honey, try to understand—”
Tears well up inside me. “I’ve been my own person for a while. I’ve built a successful business in the past four years. I never gave you a reason to worry about me,” I say, meaning every word. I never wanted to be a burden for my dad, especially after losing my mom. Not that he ever made it seem like I was, but I took pride in being proactive and finding my own way.
He shortens the small gap between us, and touches my cheek. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. Now it’s happened, and I feel like I need to make up for lost time.”
I take his hand from my face, and squeeze it lightly. I can feel the coolness on his skin, which tells me this conversation isn’t easy for him either. “So answer this: if Maddox was dating a friend of yours, someone who was around his age or whatever age is appropriate in your mind, would you have any reservations against him?”
He smiles. “No. Maddox is a decent guy. He’s smart and does right by people.”
A tear falls from the corner of my eye. “Exactly.”
“Damn you. You’ve always been good at reasoning.”
I chuckle. Seems like we’re finally getting somewhere…
18
Maddox
