Page 62 of Shattered Melodies

“Don’t you take that tone with me,” he snapped, his anger palpable even through the phone. “You can’t just disappear off the face of the earth like this, not without a word of explanation. What are you thinking Liam, your home is here, with your family. With the life we’ve built for you, the opportunities we’ve provided.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “No. That’s your life, not mine. And I’m done trying to fit into the mold you’ve created for me, and I am done pretending.”

There was a long, heavy silence. And then my father spoke again, his voice low and controlled.

“Liam, listen to me very carefully. You’re on thin ice right now, very thin ice. If you continue down this path, if you keep turning your back on your responsibilities, on your family…”

He trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.

“There will be consequences,” he finished, each word like a hammer blow. “Severe consequences.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears. But I refused to back down, refused to let him bully me into submission.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said quietly, my voice shaking only slightly. “But I’m not changing my mind. This is something I have to do, for myself. And if you can’t understand that, if you can’t support me…” I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. “Then I guess we have nothing more to say to each other,” I finished, my voice barely above a whisper.

And before he could respond, before he could unleash another tirade of anger and disapproval, I hung up the phone, my hand shaking as I tossed it onto the dashboard.

For a long moment, I just sat there, staring blankly out the windshield. My heart was racing, my mind whirling with the implications of what I’d just done.

I’d defied my father. I’d stood up for myself, for my choices. And god, it was terrifying. Exhilarating and empowering too, but mostly just scary as hell. Because I knew my parents, knew the lengths they would go to to keep me under their thumb. They wouldn’t just let this go, wouldn’t just accept my decision without a fight.

But I was ready for that fight. Ready to defend my right to live my own life, to chase my own dreams.

No matter the cost.

I glanced over at Peanut, who was watching me with wide, curious eyes. And despite everything, despite the fear and the uncertainty churning in my gut I felt a smile tug at my lips, a rush of affection warming my chest.

“You’re the least complicated thing in my life right now, you know that?” I murmured, reaching out to scratch her behind the ears. “The only one who doesn’t have any expectations, any demands.”

She mewed softly, leaning into my touch like it was the most natural thing in the world. And in that moment, with her soft fur under my fingers and her trusting gaze fixed on mine I felt a sense of peace wash over me. A sense of rightness, of purpose.

I was doing the right thing. For myself, for my own happiness.

CHAPTER 18

Taking Charge

CALEB

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon when I slipped out of the house, the screen door creaking softly behind me. Needless to say that I hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

So I did what I always did when the ghosts got too loud - I threw myself into work, into the steady rhythm of chores and tasks that had been the backbone of my life for as long as I could remember.

The cows were waiting for me in the pasture, their soft moos and shuffling hooves a welcome distraction from the chaos in my head. I lost myself in the familiar routine of milking and feeding, letting the physical labor drain away the tension in my muscles and the restlessness in my soul.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes bleeding into hours until the sun was high in the sky and my stomach was growling with neglected hunger. I wiped the sweat from my brow, surveying the work I’d done with a sense of satisfaction.

At least out here, among the animals and the wide-open spaces, I felt like I had a purpose. Like I was grounded, rooted in something real and tangible and true.

Not like the rest of my life, which seemed to be nothing but shifting sands and unanswered questions.

Sighing, I gave Bessie one last pat on the flank and started the trek back to the house. I was almost to the porch when I heard it - raised voices, muffled but unmistakable, coming from inside.

My heart kicked into overdrive, a sudden surge of adrenaline flooding my system. My family wasn’t the type to argue, to let tensions boil over into outright confrontation.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

I took the porch steps two at a time, bursting through the front door like a man on a mission. And there, standing in the middle of the living room like a standoff from a old Western was my father, his face beet-red and his fists clenched at his sides. And across from him, cool and collected in a crisp black suit was a stranger. A man I’d never seen before, with calculating eyes and a shark’s smile.

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