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15
ADDISON
He looked on edge. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. Allison had only been with him a matter of hours, and I could already see the stress she was putting on him.
I wanted to go to him, to hold him, and tell him the truth, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t do that to my father no matter how wrong it was to continue this charade.
He had dressed for work, yet he was here on my front porch pacing back and forth like a caged tiger ready to pounce.
Then he told me Allison was on the way to Paris, and everything made sense. She had probably left him a note that sounded as cold and heartless as she was, and she had probably done it while he was asleep without even looking back. Meanwhile, I had touched the empty bed and missed him before I had even left the room that was supposed to be ours.
How were we related?
Where was her heart?
Maybe I had received all of the emotions when we were inside my mother’s womb. Maybe Allison had none, and I had too many.
I hated sending him away with no answers. No love. No kisses. I wanted to do all of those things for him, but I couldn’t. I watched him drive away with my heart in my throat and tears on my cheeks.
Allison Banks.
My sister.
I loved her, but she was a terrible person.
She was out doing whatever—enjoying life—probably eating a croissant and flirting with a French waiter. Meanwhile, I was miserable. I had never been so sad in all my life. All I had been able to think about when I left his house was Wyatt coming home, throwing my sister on the kitchen counter, and losing himself inside her. I wanted to gag every time the thought crossed my mind, and I choked on jealousy.
He would call out her name, and this time, it would be the right name for the right girl.
Would he even notice a difference?
Was I nothing to him?
Needless to say, over the next few days, I spent more time moping around the house than anything else. It was the deepest depression I had ever experienced.
“Addison, are you up for going with your dad to his appointment today? There’s some paperwork I need to take care of at the office,” my mother asked me.
I was surprised she even asked. Usually, she would tell me to do something as if I had no other plans in my life. I didn’t, of course, but that wasn’t the point.
“Sure. I don’t mind. It’ll be nice to spend some time with Dad.”
And it would.
I hadn’t spent much time with him since the wedding, and with him having a difficult time getting his chemo treatments, I didn’t want to waste a single minute I could spend with him.
I drove him to the hospital and parked close to the door. Getting out of the car, I went to the trunk and pulled out his walker. He hadn’t always used a walker, but the past few months had been hard on him. He needed help getting out of the car, but once he was standing next to his walker, I got inside the car, parked a few rows down, and then came back to walk with him inside.
When the nurse took him back for his treatment, I went to the billing office and waited in the waiting room. I wanted to get back to Dad as soon as possible, but I knew I needed to take care of this first. We needed more time. The paperwork Allison had attempted to take fill out for Mom was wrong. Mom had corrected it and asked that I turn them in for her.
Once the billing clerk called me back, I sat in the chair in front of her desk and set the paperwork in front of her.
“What’s this?” she asked, looking over the top page.
“It’s the application for financial assistance.”
She looked at me with confusion pressing on her brows. “And this is for Frank Banks?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
