Page 175 of Please Hate Me

I turned my dad’s hand over in mine, focusing on the rings on his fingers rather than the equipment keeping him‘alive.’

“I renamed your granddaughter,” I began. “Rosemary… I’m still deciding on a middle name, but I know it won’t be James.”

I swallowed hard, unsure how to tell him I didn’t want her to be an Albright either. I wanted to sever any tie my sweet girl would have to her grandfather.

More tears collected in my eyes as I recounted everything that had happened during my absence. I told him about Lucian, Sophia, Cameron, Sebastian, and the twins. I told him how I was happy, and that none of the clothes I left Lyon with fit me anymore. I knew if he had heard me, he would have hated that last bit, which is why I included it.

After that, I told my dad how much I loved him, but I also explained that I was angry, furious even. It wasn’t fair that I tried for years to earn his love, only for him to do this. I also let him know how upset I was that no one, not even his assistant, brought him flowers during his hospital stay. After this was over, I’d be calling both his assistant and manager to let them know just how disappointed I was in them. My dad had been working with them since before I was born, and they couldn’t even express their condolences.

When I calledmymanager and let her know everything that happened, she had a bouquet of fruit sent to the house with a card, and I wasn’t even the one who was hurt.

I talked to him until the blue sky turned a brilliant blend of orange and pink before deciding enough was enough. But what else was I supposed to do?

This was the last time I would ever talk to my dad. Once today was over, my pool of blood relatives would be drained. There would be no aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents.

Just Mason.

Rosemary kicked, as if to remind me that she was there too. I took my hand from my dad’s, rubbing the spot to quell my daughter. I wanted to make an off-handed comment about how I hoped he’d love his granddaughter in the way he loved me when I was young, but that wouldn’t do me any good. So, instead, I pressed the call button to let the doctor know I was ready, and then I talked some more.

“I wish you had loved me as much as I thought you did. Then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” My voice quivered, and I cleared my throat, trying to hold myself together. He hated it when I cried.

“You’re a bad person, Dad. Even so, I forgive you.”

I had a long road ahead of me, a lot of therapy visits to undo the damage James Albright inflicted on me, but all the rage I held toward him would do me no good. Plus, he’d be happier if Ididn’tforgive him. He liked feeling persecuted, and he liked it when I was angry. That’s why he’d always pick a fight with me before I went on stage.

Forgiving my dad was the biggest ‘fuck you’I could give him.

The room fell silent as the doctor entered and removed everything other than the monitors from my dad. He let me know it might take a minute or two for my dad to fully pass, and I was okay with that.

When we were alone again, I straightened up my dad’s appearance. He always made sure I was photo-ready when I was at my worst, so it was only fair for me to do the same for him.

His wheezy breath warmed my wrist as I pulled back to hold his hand again. This time, I pocketed one of his rings; a silver band with small emeralds circling it. He showed me this ring when I was young, told me my grandfather had passed it down to him. I wanted something to remember him by, and it felt like this should stay in the family.

The rest of his estate would also go to me, but I planned on selling everything and donating all the money to one of the charities he publicly backed. Dad was a monster, but I knew how important appearances were to him. He would have loved to know the public thought of him as a philanthropist—a man with a heart of gold and a wallet to match.

This ring would be my only keepsake. I thumbed the silver, using the cool feeling of the metal to keep myself centered as the door opened once again. I expected it to be a doctor checking in to see if he could get the time of death. Instead, Lucian walked in with a bouquet of purple flowers I couldn’t quite place the name of. Silently, he put them on the bedside table before standing behind me.

“I know you didn’t want me in here, but—”

“Stay,” I pleaded as tears I had been denying finally escaped.

I didn’t have the strength to look back at Lucian, not right now. But, as his arms draped over my shoulders, I was so glad he came in against my wishes. Together, we waited for the beeps of my dad’s heart monitor to fade into one dull note.

Once it did, we sat still a few moments more. Lucian didn’t push me to move, or talk, or even breathe. Instead, he quietly reminded me that Sophia, Sebastian, and Cameron were all waiting for phone calls from us. They wanted to be there for me, to make sure I was okay. I knew it wasn’t realistic for everyonein the house to drop their lives to come to France, but I really wished I had everyone here.

I blinked twice to dispel the remaining tears as I focused on the clock just above my dad’s bed. It was one of the nice digital ones that showed the date and the time.

October twelfth, seven p.m.

I committed the time and date to memory... Not that it would be hard to remember, considering my birthday was tomorrow.

Every moment after this day would be a moment spent living for my daughter and me, making my own choices, and spending time with the family who chose me. Just a few months ago, if you had asked me where my life was going, I would’ve never guessed I’d end up here.

But, sometimes, the best endings are the ones you never expect.

Epilogue

Cameron

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