Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Berries and flowers are striking against the stark white snow around us. Do I even deserve to wear something this pretty? Am I even the woman my mom thinks I am—or am I still wishing and hoping to be that courageous, that spirited and loving?
With a single breath, I hook the crown to a rung of the treehouse ladder.
My dad watches with hardened eyes and furrowed brows.
I leave the crown behind on our trek, and we keep moving. Snow crunches underneath our soles as we pass the tire swing.
We stay silent. My dad and I aren’t on the best terms still. No resolutions made at the lake house, and I don’t expect any today.
When I tell him Akara broke up with me, I know he’ll be happy. And his happiness will be an arrow through my chest. Another kick into the ground.
Venturing further and further into the woods, we stop at a clearing with makeshift rope bridges strung between the trees. Ropes hang down from skeletal limbs. Wooden planks are nailed into the largest trunks, easy to climb. Growing up, Winona and I loved having our very own ropes course. For me, especially, I enjoyed working out on the ropes. Scaling up and down them.
Snow cloaks the wooden bridges, and I wipe some ice off a hanging rope with my ungloved hand.
My dad watches me for another second. “Last night was one of the worst nights of my fucking life.”
His words are like a boomerang, flinging from me and back to him. It was mine too, Dad, I want to say, but my tongue feels thick in my mouth.
Our eyes meet.
His scruff is scruffier, but he’s the same dad, stone-faced with a mushy heart. The one who dressed in a tutu for me, the one who rallied at my swim meets, the one who showered me with chocolate, the one who said yes more than he ever said no—the dad who I’ll always fucking love and never want to hate.
“I couldn’t see you,” he says, muscles constricted. “And in that fucking moment, I just saw what happened to your mom…” He hangs his head. “The riot.” He takes off his beanie and runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “I didn’t ever want you to have to go through this.”
My eyes burn. “I know you tried to protect me.”
He nods strongly several times. “That’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted to do.” We just look at each other for a long moment, his gaze reddening with raw emotion that we’ve felt since the initial blow-up, since the origin of the strain. Quietly, he breathes, “I know I’ve made mistakes, and making you choose between Akara and Banks is a big one.”
“What?” I rock back.
His face contorts in a series of sentiments, but I see his remorse most clearly. “You love them both, don’t you?”
“Yeah. I told you I did months ago.”
He falters for a moment, his eyes flitting from the ground to the sky and then back to me. “I could see it back then, how much you love them, but I cared more about protecting you—and that was wrong. I was fucking wrong.”
I hug my arms to my chest. Confusion compounding. “Why now? What’s changed that you suddenly regret being the Choose One Ambassador.”
His brows rise. “The Choose One Ambassador?”
“No one else was making me choose,” I shoot back. “So yeah, you were the fucking ambassador.”
He grimaces. “I guess that’s fucking fair.” He fits his beanie back on his head, tugging the fabric down over his ears that are pink from the wind. “Your relationship is leaked to the public. It’s out in the world. I wanted to believe it wasn’t fucking inevitable, but I see now it was.”
Inevitable.
Because Akara and Banks and I wouldn’t break up. Because there would be no universe where it could be two instead of three.
I choke on brittle air. Water sears in my eyes from the cold. “Before you start down this apology tour,” I tell him. “You should know that Akara broke up with me last night.”
My dad physically sways like I pushed him. Confused lines form between his eyebrows. “What?”
I don’t repeat it. I know he heard. Riled, hot tears form. “It’s what you wanted, right?” I snap. “For one of them to leave. Well, congratulations—”
“Sulli, what the fuck happened?” he interrupts, concern outplaying his confusion.
My chin trembles. “He thinks since we haven’t confirmed our relationship, he can…make a clean break and save me from the media attention.”
My dad’s hands fly to the top of his head like he’s winded. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he curses out and starts to pace.
I frown. “I…I thought you’d be happy.”
He stops pacing to pinch the bridge of his nose, holding something back.
Pain latches onto me. “You basically told him to leave to prove his love for me!” I yell.