Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“Why are you here?” I asked once I heard Mom’s voice when Bryony entered the kitchen. I didn’t want either of them overhearing this conversation.
My dad raised his eyebrows as if this question surprised him.
“I did live here for longer than you’ve been alive,” he replied, as if that gave him a right to be here.
“But you chose another life. This isn’t your home anymore,” I replied.
Dad sighed as if I were being an unreasonable child. “Brady, your mom and I spent most of our lives together. We built this house together. We raised you in this house. We have a history.”
“That you ruined with your selfish choices,” I said.
The scowl on his face pissed me off. As if he had any right to defend himself. I had forgiven him, but I would never forget. That would be impossible.
“Things change. Time changes things. We all make mistakes. Your mother has—”
“I don’t give a fuck if mom has forgiven you. I was there when she was broken and falling apart. Me, dad. ME! I was eighteen years old, and overnight I became a man. You forced me to become one. You gave me no choice. Mom needed me, and I was there. You weren’t. Just because time has passed and I have forgiven you, and she has forgiven you, doesn’t erase it. You cheated on her. You destroyed this family, and I was the one who held on. That little girl in there was the one who put it back together. She gave Mom a reason to smile. She did for her what I couldn’t do. So I’m going to ask you again. Why are you here?”
Dad didn’t say anything for a moment, and during the silence my thoughts went down several different paths, all of them leading me to showing him his way out and threatening him if he ever came back.
“You’re right. About all of that. I know what I did, and not a day passes I don’t regret it. But your mother is the only person on this earth who knows me. Who understands me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here. It’s just the first time you’ve caught me here. I’m not leaving because you don’t want me here. I will only leave if your mother tells me to.”
The anger simmering in my veins felt as if it was going to explode.
“Brady.” Mom’s overly chipper tone instantly stalled my temper, and I inhaled deeply, hoping it would calm me down.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, walking over to pull her into a hug. She smelled like vanilla, and for a moment all was okay. This wasn’t a fucked-up mess.
“Do you need to leave Bryony with us and go help Riley set up the party?” she asked me.
I had been on my way to pick up the helium tank for the balloons when I had stopped here because of Dad’s vehicle. I shook my head. “No, I just stopped by…” Pausing, I looked at Dad.
Mom understood without my having to say anything more.
She squeezed my arms and gave me a reassuring smile. “I see,” she said. “Well, thank you for checking in on me. The cookies are coming along beautifully. Your father and I are going to bring them along with Bryony’s presents in about an hour. I want to be there for Riley if she needs help.”
“Mom,” I said, not liking the fact she had put her and dad in a sentence together. “Let me come pick you up. I’m sure Dad has other places he needs to be.”
“Brady,” she pleaded softly. “This isn’t something you would understand.”
She was fucking right I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand at all.
“Can I lick the bowl, Grammy?” Bryony asked as she entered the room.
“Only if you share with me,” Dad told her, making her giggle.
Mom glanced at my dad and Bryony, then back at me. “Some things in life don’t make sense. But life happens, and we make our own choices. You can’t make mine for me,” she whispered.
Feeling as if she had just punched me in the stomach, I managed to nod. “Bryony,” I said, looking over at my daughter. “You ready to go? Mommy needs my help.”
“But I wanted to lick the bowl,” she said, looking deflated.
“Leave her with us. We’ll get her to the party on time,” Mom said and reached up to pat my cheek as if I were five years old.
“Please, please, please, Daddy?” she begged. She was too young to be so good at manipulation. She knew exactly how to work me to get her way. The last thing I wanted was for her to get used to seeing my parents together. This wasn’t a big, happy family. It was a broken one.
“Okay,” I relented, unable to tell her and my mother no.
She beamed brightly at me then grabbed my dad’s hand. “Let’s go!” she told him then pulled him down the hallway toward the kitchen.