Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
My jaw hit the floor. “Rehab?” I laughed. “Dad—”
“I mean it, Julep. I’m not playing around.”
“I’m sober.”
That made him stop pacing, and his eyes were sad when he said, “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. I mean, yeah, I drink every now and then, but it’s a glass of wine. Maybe two.”
“You think I don’t know about that night at the Pit when you made a goddamn fool of yourself?”
My heart rate ticked up a notch, hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention.
“You weren’t just drunk, you were a fucking train wreck. And I know it was more than just booze.”
I swallowed, trying to think fast and cover my tracks. “It was just a little weed.”
“It wasn’t, and you fucking know it! Don’t lie to me. Don’t fucking lie—”
Dad broke then, fists tightening, his eyes wild as he rushed me. I cowered away from him instinctively, and that seemed to break him more.
He collapsed.
He fell into the couch beside me, sitting so hard it slid back against the wall. He folded, his head buried in his hands, shoulders shaking.
I stared at him, blinking, heart hammering in my chest. “Dad?”
It was then I realized he was sobbing.
The last time I’d seen him cry was at Abby’s funeral.
The image, the sound, it all knocked me silent. And emotion strangled my own throat as I reached over and tentatively put a hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He cried harder, shaking his head, rocking back and forth and grunting like he was frustrated that he was crying at all. After a while, he sniffed, swiping the tears from his face like it was them he was angry at before he lifted his head and looked at me.
His eyes were red, face completely broken.
“I have done everything I can to make life okay for you after…” His throat bobbed. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.”
My bottom lip quivered. “Dad…”
“Please,” he begged, swiping the fresh tears that crested with the word. “Please, Julep. Listen to me. Trust that I know what’s good for you. You are the only daughter I have left. Just… let me protect you. Please.”
The desperation in his voice erased every other emotion I had, and I wrapped my arms around him. I hugged my dad like he was a little kid, feeling all the pain and stress that he’d endured since my sister died rolling off him like wisps of smoke that choked any arguments I still had left hanging on.
I hugged him and eventually he hugged me back, crushing me to him like I’d disappear before his very eyes if he didn’t save me first.
I’d done this to him.
And the weight of that truth held me as a silent captive of the mess I’d made.
Holden
She didn’t answer my text.
I watched her house until her dad finally left, climbing into his SUV he had parked on the street and driving off. I immediately called her, but she didn’t answer.
I didn’t give myself time to debate whether it was a good idea or not before I was bolting out our front door and across the street to hers. I lifted my fist to knock, but the door opened before I could.
Julep was a wreck.
Her hair was matted and tangled, her eyes puffy and red and swollen. She sniffed, wiping the back of her nose with her wrist.
The sight broke my fucking heart.
“Come here,” I said, and then I pulled her into me as she started to cry again.
I held her there in the open doorway while she shook and clung to my hoodie like a lifeline. The last bit of good sense I had holding on urged me to scoot us inside and close the door, and once I had, I pulled back and framed her arms with my hands.
“He lost it, didn’t he?”
“DEFCON level one meltdown.”
“With me, too,” I said, and then I sighed, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “Come on, let me make us some tea.”
Julep let me slide my arm around the small of her back and guide her to the kitchen. She slid into a barstool at the small island while I opened cabinets until I found a box of herbal tea. I filled her electric kettle next, and once it was on to boil, I leaned a hip against the counter and turned back to her.
“He just doesn’t know us,” I said. “He doesn’t understand. Once we get him to see that we’re good for each other, he’ll re-evaluate.”
Julep didn’t look convinced.
She stared at a dark spot on the counter, not blinking.
It was too quiet, even as the water began to bubble and boil. I turned it off once it was ready, placing tea bags in two mugs and pouring the water over them. I handed one to Julep and kept one on the other side with me.