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Me:"Phillip King."
Dad:"King? I know that boy and his brothers. Works at the fire station. The Sheriff's youngest brother. He's good people."
I smile, shaking my head. Only my dad would call someone as big and manly as Phillip aboy.
Me:"He is, Dad. Good people. He's D firefighter who saved my life. I never mentioned him 2 U B4 BC things didn't go as I wished 4 Btwin us 7 yrs ago N it was just 2 painful."
Dad:"That's too bad, sweetheart."
Dad:"Is that why you left?"
Me:"That's 1 of D reasons, Y."
Dad:"And now?"
Me:"Now things R different. We talked. Somethin happened back then that we couldn't control N it made both of us Bliv that D other didn't want a relationship, but we'R in love, Dad."
Dad:"What?!"
Me:"Yeah."
Dad:"What kind of something?"
I sigh.
Me:"Someone got in D middle. Lied 2 Phillip while I was away with Belle. They told him I didn't want him N that I blamed him 4 Flora's death."
Dad:"That's despicable! Who would do such a thing?! And why?"
Damn, I'm not telling him like this.
Me:"I don't know Y they did it, Dad. I know who they R, though."
Dad: "And I know this person."
It's not a question: my dad's a very smart, perceptive man. So much so that if this would have been a phone call rather than a text chat, I'm one hundred percent sure he would have been able to surmise I'm talking about that bitch of his girlfriend just from my tone.
Me:"U do. Phillip N I will come over in a little while so we can talk face 2 face."
Dad:"Okay, sweetie. That's good."
Me: "CU in a bit, Dad. Bye. <3"
Dad:"Bye, honey. Love ya."
Me:"Me too :)"
I put my phone away, my heart both heavy and light at the same time. I twist and squirm in Phillip's arms and he grumbles adorably, making me laugh a little.
When he realizes I'm not trying to get away but simply to turn toward him, he slackens his hold a little so I can finally roll over and look into his beautiful eyes as I kiss him awake.
"Morning, little doll," he murmurs on my lips. His gruff voice, still laden with sleep, makes my heart go pitter-patter and for a moment, everything that's not us is forgotten.
—*—
My eyes dart first to my dad just as he pounds his fist onto the table, and then to Phillip as he paces back and forth like a caged tiger.
There's another person in this room, of course, the target of all the rage, disappointment, and hurt floating around us, the one person I know I'm never going to willingly lay eyes on as long as I live as soon as we’re done here.
