Page 49 of Unbroken

“My name is Eli. It’s what’s printed on my birth certificate, my driver’s license, and every other document out there.”

“That’s because your mother filled out your birth certificate before I could approve it.” I was surprised at the level of venom in his tone. He was always much better at manipulation through his silences.

I thought back to the times when I brought home report cards with Bs, how my father would throw them on the table and walk away without a word. My mother was always there with an encouraging word, but that never did much to lift my mood or convince me that I was anything other than a disappointment. Nothing I did seemed good enough for my father unless it was perfect. Trying to live up to his expectations felt like a full-time job, and one that I always seemed to fail at because—as he aptly pointed out to Patrick—as far as my father was concerned, anything other than first was wasted effort.

“Patrick doesn’t need to worry about any sort of reputation. He’s barely turned five! If you can’t handle keeping your mouth shut and withholding your judgmental comments around him, then I don’t want him seeing you. Got it?”

“Elijah… Eli, you’re overreacting,” he replied in a patronizing voice. “All I’m doing is making sure he’s strong and prepared for the world, like I did with you. I’m looking out for our family, which you should be doing too.”

I choked out a laugh. “What family? Mom left you eight years ago, but you’re too damn stubborn to give her the divorce she keeps asking for.”

My father actually growled. “You’ve spent too much time gallivanting with that ridiculous woman. She’s the one who put these thoughts in your head.”

“Excuse me? What does Fiona have to do with any of this? Mom had been itching to leave you while I was still in school and Patrick’s fear of being a disappointment was all you,” I roared, happy that I was outside and away from Patrick’s room.

“Calm down, would you? You never would have spoken to me like this if it wasn’t for that woman. Ever since you started spending time with her, you seem … consumed by her. And she doesn’t even go to the same church.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose wondering how the hell he managed to twist me yelling at him for bullying my son into making everything Fiona’s fault.

“We’re talking about the way you treat Patrick, not me or my relationship with Fiona. From this point on, there’s going to be no more talk about needing to be the best, or losers, or school, oranyof that kind of stuff. If Patrick gets another stomachache because of you, I’m cutting off all contact. Permanently.”

I refrained from saying it was likely we’d stop seeing him altogether once we moved.

He sighed again, as if everything I was saying was ridiculous and he was humoring me. “Fine, fine. I won’t say a word to him.”

“Good.”

We hung up and I finally planted myself in the chair just outside the door, tension still coursing through me. I didn’t believe for a second that my father would back off of Patrick. Sure, he might initially, but old habits die hard and there’s no way he would be able to resist pushing his version of “Carter family values” on his grandson.

I thought about Fiona. If it hadn’t been for her, who knows how long it would have taken me to figure out who had Patrick so tied up in knots. And while I’d never tell him this, I did feel a bit consumed by her. Fiona Cafferty was a fiery force of nature. She was the one who came up with the plan to make sure the town understood that I wasn’t pining for Charlotte, and that I was doing just fine … that was part of our arrangement, after all. It’s what we’d agreed to. But then … everything between us changed in a moment of unbelievable passion.

I finally allowed myself to smile. It waswaylonger than a moment.

I tipped the chair back and rested my head against the wall behind me. Our relationship had started out fake but was quickly turning into something that felt real. At least it was to me, but I had no idea exactly what was going on in Fiona’s pretty head.

Like always.

I allowed myself to think back to that night all those years ago when she’d stood me up. I chuckled that I still had baggage about something as silly as a high school prom. The memory had faded to the point where I wasn’t sure what really happened and what imagery I’d conjured up to fill in the blanks as time passed. My mom had taken exactly two photos of me in my tux, expecting to take a million more of the two of us together. I realized that she’d never shared the two pictures she took, probably assuming that it would hurt too much to see them.

At first, after I’d actually asked her to prom, I’d planned the date with her like I was in on the joke. But as the big day got closer, I allowedmyself to get excited. When Fiona suggested picking me up, saying that my truck was too dirty to be seen in, I’d thought it was strange, but I went along with it to keep the peace. A tiny part of me thought that maybe the obligatory prank would involve her car or the drive there, but I didn’t obsess about it, didn’t even plan a retaliatory attack.

I just wanted to have a fun night with a beautiful girl.

The corsage I’d bought was pale pink, to match the dress she’d told me she’d picked. I remembered thinking she never wore pink because of her red hair, and I couldn’t wait to see how she looked in it. Sure, I’d noticed that she was about as naturally beautiful as a girl could be despite the ongoing competition between us. I was big enough to admit that she was attractive, but it didn’t mean anything. She was nothing more than a gorgeous rival, like an evil Bond girl.

My father had made a joke about sending a woman to do a man’s job as I waited for her to show up, but I had been too excited to let it bother me. Until the time kept ticking on, and Fiona didn’t show. After an hour passed, I realized that the joke was the prom itself, and Fiona had never intended to go with me.

She’d gotten me good.

And yes, she’d apologized and explained that she’d never meant for it to be a prank at all, but it wasn’t that easy to put away eight years of remembering something a certain way. So much so that I kept burying the tiny worry that what was happening between us now was … not a joke, exactly, but not something that Fiona was invested in. Sheseemedlike she was enjoying our time together, but then again, she was a phenomenal actress. Maybe it was nothing more than a passing fling for her. Killing time between the sheets until I moved on, since she’d already announced that she planned to stick around Lost Valley.

I scowled. Getting involved with someone was a big deal to me, especially now that Patrick was older and could grasp what was going on.Patrick liked and trusted Fiona, which made me worry about how he’d handle the inevitable end to our relationship.

I let the front legs of the chair fall to the ground with a crash. It didn’t matter what was going on with Fiona, I was leaving anyway. I had a shot at my next step and there was no need to get caught up in whatever was or wasn’t happening with her. All I needed to do was enjoy our relationship for what it was—and then move on when the time came.

THIRTY-THREE

FIONA

---