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29
Imade a mistake. That phrase, which I hated almost more than ‘you’re very pretty’, played on repeat in my mind as I circled the ballroom full of my dad’s rich political allies. Mom was here somewhere, probably following Dad around like a human accessory. The perfect wife to go with his perfect daughter.
He’d have the full collection if his perfect son hadn’t died.
Carl had abandoned me to network as soon as we’d entered the room, though I had to give him credit for thanking me and making sure I was okay on my own. As if I didn’t have a lifetime of experience with these kinds of parties. He should have seen my debutante ball.
I’d kept an eye out for Stephen, since I knew he’d have gotten an invite as a close friend of the family, but so far, he’d been absent. Not surprising considering Stephen loved an entrance.
As I passed the small cocktail tables for the third time, another one of my mom’s committee chairs caught me to exclaim how beautiful I looked. I thanked her, and she patted my arm as if I should be proud of my face.
I was slowly suffocating. The people here didn’t look past the surface, not even Carl—especiallynot Carl—and my place in the world felt like it had been made for someone else. Neither of my parents had greeted me, despite not having seen me in months. I wasn’t necessarily sad about it, but the lack of effort highlighted a telling distinction between my dad’s image of a close family and the reality. No one here cared about me, and I’d left behind the man who did.
Suddenly, I was tired. Of everything. I’d spent the last sixteen years trying to live up to the memory of my brother, to be worthy of the sacrifice he made, but none of this made me happy. These plastic people talking about nothing so they could flash their status symbols at each other.
I looked down at my frothy pink dress and shook my head. A designer dress laid out for me after hours of hair and makeup so I could present the exact right image. Was this what I wanted for my future?
How much was I supposed to give up because Brendan died?
Tonight was a terrible time to come to terms with my past trauma, but uncontrolled panic increased my heart rate and stole my breath. I gulped in air and made a beeline for the bar, requesting a water. After gulping down half the glass, I felt calmer, if not better.
Something inside me had shifted, broken free. I missed Brendan. I missed our life before he died, when my dad read me bedtime stories and my mom didn’t talk to me through her assistant. Brendan would never have let them cut me out of their lives if I’d been the one to die.
I didn’t want to pretend he didn’t exist anymore, and I was done trying to live up to a ghost.
Carl’s eyes flicked toward me from his group of middle-aged men, and he gave me a tiny smile. At least someone was getting what they wanted. As much as I wished Gavin was the onesmiling at me, I’d never ask him to choose me over his future. I should have chosen him—I should have gone to the game.
They must be getting close to the end of the first period, and I desperately wanted to check the score, maybe send Gavin a good luck text. He wouldn’t see it until the first intermission, but I wanted him to know I supported him. Unfortunately, my phone had lost service as soon as I got to the room my dad reserved for me at the hotel.
This wasn’t really the college sports crowd, but maybe one of the people willing to stop and offer me marriage advice could give me a score update too. I casually checked the men near me, looking for someone on their phone. My father had ignored me up to this point, but my luck ran out when he spotted me hovering near the buffet.
“Eva,” he called from his table at the head of the room.
Plan foiled, I pasted on a smile and made my way to him. “Congratulations, Dad. It’s a good turnout tonight.”
He hummed in agreement and scanned the crowd. “Carl Bennington was a good choice. Popular among young businessmen, up and coming in Dallas society, and not charismatic enough to outshine you. I would have preferred if he weren’t your professor, but he meets my requirements. I’m willing to suspend our agreement if you want to keep dating him, though I ask you to wait until he’s no longer in a position to decide your grade—not the right image.”
Inside, I recoiled, but I managed to keep the pleasant smile on my face. What a load of bullshit. None of the responses running through my head were appropriate for this conversation.
Dad took a drink and his gaze landed on me. “With that in mind, I have a tour of speaking engagements coming up, and your mom is tied up with her charity responsibilities. I want you to accompany me.”
“What?” The word came out sharper than I intended, but he’d surprised me.
“Lower your voice,” he said quietly. “There’s no need to share our personal lives with those around us.”
“You started it,” I muttered. “I can’t go on tour with you. I have classes and practice.”
“Naturally, you’d have to postpone your last semester of college, which you’d have to do anyway without the money for tuition.”
I dropped the smile as icy dread sank in my gut. “You said you’d keep paying for my expenses.”
He took a sip of his whiskey and tucked his hand into his pocket. “I know you broke the agreement.”
I gestured at Carl, shmoozing two tables over. “I brought a Dad-approved date to the event you demanded I attend. How did I break our agreement?”
My father wasn’t a cruel man, but he could be cunning. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass letting the questions build in my mind. No doubt, he wanted me to start making excuses for all the waysIthought I’d fucked up.
I didn’t let his power play work on me despite the growing panic crushing my chest. “Well?”
