Page 180 of Don't Leave Me

“Your sister is on Broadway, was that right?” she turned to Jack, her friendly tone back.

Jack seemed tense still – I’m sure the tension between my mom and I was clearly abundant.

“That’s right. She’s currently Roxie Hart in Chicago. She’s insanely talented – we could get you tickets anytime you’d like,” he said with pride, then took a quick sip of wine.

Suddenly we heard our old, loud door creak open – my dad was home. It felt like my heart had stopped. I heard his cowboy boots step onto the wood floor and my mom immediately stood up and hurried towards him, probably to make sure he would be civil with us. I didn’t even realize that I was clenching my jaw and was squeezing Jack’s hand in mine.

“Not the Grinch, remember?” Jack whispered teasingly towards me.

I smiled and for a moment, I had forgotten that it was Jack that had gotten me into all of this – right then, he was just my loving, supportive husband that was easing up a little tension and making me smile. My sweet, loving Jack.

I heard my mom whispering as their footsteps got closer and I could see my chest rising up and down quickly. I sat rigid on the couch next to Jack, and suddenly my parents appeared in the hallway, my dad eyeing us with his long mustache and his cowboy hat-hair flat and more white than the last time I’d see him.

“Daddy,” I shrilled, my voice a million octaves higher than usual, and I shot right up, pulling Jack up with me.

I didn’t even let him speak; I started to introduce them right away.

“This is Jack. Jack, this is my dad, Dan,” I looked between the two of them, almost standing between them as they eyed each other..

“It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” Jack said politely, his eyes level with my dad’s, as he stuck out his hand for my dad’s handshake.

My dad paused for a moment and looked between the two of us. His eyes stopped at Jack.

“Jack, it’s nice to meet you,” my dad said just as politely, his Southern accent a huge contrast from Jack’s, and took Jack’s hand in his, their firm handshake quick before my dad let go.

“I heard you married my daughter. What was it, a shotgun wedding?” my dad asked, his face serious, the concern in his eyes real.

I was mortified – not only because of my dad’s straight-forwardness, but because I would have never dreamed of intentionally marrying someone without telling my parents first. I knew how much it hurt them, and I was dying a little bit inside as each second passed.

“No, dad,” I quickly interjected, my face red hot. “It was to avoid judgment from everyone that I knew would second guess why I wasn’t marrying Michael,” I quickly responded, feeling lightheaded but my voice strong somehow.

My dad eyed me, almost giving me a look of sympathy, or was it disappointment? Either way, my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. He sighed and sat down on the ottoman directly in front of the sofa that we stood in front of.

“Hana’s my little girl. I hope you can understand why I’m not thrilled about this,” my dad started, looking at Jack with sad eyes.

“I do understand that, sir. It was never our intention to hurt anyone. We simply thought that getting married would show the world, and God, how in love we are,” Jack responded civilly, clearly having thought of his answers beforehand; the God thing was a nice touch – he knew my parents were religious even though Jack and I weren’t.

My dad turned to look at me and nodded.

“If my baby girl is happy, that’s all that matters,” he said quietly, albeit sadly.

I immediately got teary-eyed. I couldn’t stand the fact that I was betraying my parents, that I was lying about something so huge straight to my sweet dad’s face. I wanted to yell out and tell him to go grab the many guns in his safe and shoo Jack out of there. But I couldn’t. I was in too deep now. I was in so very, very deep

“Thank you, daddy,” I smiled, a tear dropping down my cheek as I got up to go hug him.

I had never hated myself so much.

49

Chapter 49

We ate dinner with my parents and decided to turn our rental SUV into the Greenwich rent-a-car and take the train back to the city from there. I was shocked at how quickly my parents seemed to ease up to Jack – they were all bonding over Hitchcock and old Abbott and Costello movies. I started to worry – Jack was so much more charismatic and charming with my parents than Michael was. Did they like Jack more than Michael?

The hour long train ride back into the city had my mind racing. Jack was busy on his phone and contacting the Bowery to schedule a date for our reception party and I sat staring out the window, afraid to be back in the city. When we left, I was still so scared but somehow hopeful. It didn’t feel like the city I loved when we left – it felt like the scene of a horror movie. And now as I sat staring out the window, the familiar surroundings starting to appear, I still felt that sense of dread I had felt before. I wasn’t as scared anymore, but I also no longer had that hope. I wasn’t able to live the life that I wanted now – I was to live the rest of my life with Jack, the constant fear of doing something wrong always lingering, the threat of my loved one’s lives always at stake.

The bright lights of the city quickly started to appear and Jack had just finished his phone calls.

“We have this Saturday booked for the party. We can start it at 7 PM,” he announced happily, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

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