Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 258(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“Gorgeous.” Dad’s pain-filled voice cuts through me, and I look up at him.
“I love you, Dad. You’ve been the best dad a girl could ask for. You mean everything to me. Everything. And I would have been lost without you. Please don’t doubt that. Please know how much you mean to me and how grateful I am that I’m your daughter.” I watch his eyes close then feel his hand wrap around mine. Having his love and strength is something I’ve been lucky enough to feel my whole life. I look at my mom. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, for you to put me first. You never did that. Everything has always been about you, about how you feel or what you want.”
“This is fucked up,” she hisses.
“No, this—you. Showing up at my house is fucked up, especially when we haven’t spoken in forever. You picking up your granddaughter you don’t even know and acting the way you did is fucked up. You having the guts to give Shel—a woman you should be thanking—dirty looks is fucked up. I hope you get yourself together. I really hope you do. But I don’t want you in my life or my baby’s life, and you are really not welcome to stay here in my home.”
“I can’t believe you’re talking to me like this.”
“You need to leave,” Denver says, and she looks at him, her face turning ugly.
“I’m guessing you standing here means she’s finally giving you a shot. I hope you know that without her husband dying, you wou—”
“Get out!” Shel shouts, and my eyes go to her. I see she has tears running down her cheeks. “Get out of this house right now before I put you out.”
“Yeah, like you could do that.”
“Don’t make me prove it to you,” Shel says calmly, and I tense when my mom aggressively steps toward her. “Please. Please do it. You need to learn a lesson.”
“Right.” Mom stops, resting her hands on her hips. “Like you could teach me anything.”
“I could show you a thing or two about love, about the power of it and about the strength of a mother’s devotion. That’s my girl.” Shell points at me. “Mine. And I will go down swinging to protect her, every part of her, even her heart. You might not care about anyone but yourself, but I love her with everything in me. I’m grateful for every second I get with her, and I hate that you’ve had any role in her life.”
“She’s not yours. She’s mine,” Mom seethes.
“You’re wrong. You might have given birth to her, but she’s right.” She points at me again. “It’s been me by her side through everything, and me who will continue to be by her side until the day I die. Honestly, I feel sorry for you, because one day—tomorrow or years from now—when you’re lying on your deathbed, you’re going to realize what you let get away. You’re going to see you have no one to blame but yourself for the fact that your kids don’t want anything to do with you and that you spent your life alone.”
“This is done,” Denver cuts in before my mom can reply. “You need to leave.” He picks up her bag, opens the door, and throws it out onto the porch, where I hear it land then roll down the steps.
“Did you just throw my bag?” she squawks, her voice flabbergasted.
“Get out, or I’ll put you in cuffs and escort you to the station,” Dad says, and my mom, who has never really been my mom, narrows her eyes on him.
“Fuck this,” she mutters, giving Shel another glare before she stomps to the still dark living room and grabs her coat. She doesn’t say anything as she goes, but she does give each of us one last ugly look before she’s gone.
“Gorgeous,” Dad whispers, wrapping his arms around me as I stare at the closed door. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dad—”
“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me you felt like that?”
“Because you made up for her not being around, and then I had Shel and it didn’t matter anymore,” I confess, and his arms around me squeeze. “I love you, Dad. Please know that, and please know what I felt then, I only felt for a little while.”
“I wish you never felt it at all.”
“I know.” I look up at him then over at Shel. “Is it too late to start calling you mom?” At my question, her chin wobbles and she shakes her head. “Good, I love you, Mom.”
“I know, honey.” She joins my dad and me, and we make room as our arms go around each other in a huddle. I look over Shel’s shoulder at Denver, and the intensity of his gaze makes my heart pick up speed. He’s proud of me. God, yes, I love him.