Page 167 of Before We're More Than Friends
“Where’s Mom?” I asked Dad, grabbing orange juice from the fridge.
“She left for work early,” he said as he put the waffles onto the plate. “Wanted to get a head start.”
I nodded as I joined Kami at the table.
Dad sighed. “You want an update, do you?”
I gave him a small smile. “You know me almost as well as she does.”
A frown took shape on his lips. “Oh.”
“I-I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” I said, twisting the friendship bracelet on my wrist.
“That’s the thing.” Dad put the waffles on the table and sat down. “Your mom has always been your role model. Shoot, I’m the one who fell in love with her for how exceptional she is. But sometimes . . .” He stared at his plate. “I wish you looked up to me like that.”
My heart ached as I realized how much I didn’t know about Dad. I never asked questions about his job, rarely asked how his day was, and hadn’t hung out with him in months.
Had our closeness with Mom made him wish he had the same thing?
Kami put her phone down and exchanged a sympathetic look with me.
“I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said first, her voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” I said. “But we love you just as much as we love Mom.” I stared at my waffles, steam no longer rising from them. “It’s not too late to be closer to you.”
“I wouldn’t take away what you have with your mom. I just wish things were different.” Dad took a bite of his waffles. “I don’t know how to fix things with your mom while still having her see my point of view. I don’t want to lose her.”
I blinked back the tears that threatened to surface. “You won’t lose her, Dad. Couples go through rough patches. You’re just going through a harder one.”
“Mom doesn’t want to lose you, either,” Kami said as she ate her waffles. “She’s been crying at the shelter over things because she misses how things used to be.”
Dad’s face fell. “She . . . she’s been crying at work?” He rubbed his forehead, muttering to himself. “I thought she was having the time of her life there.”
Kami sighed. “She’s been trying.”
“I didn’t know that you walked in on her crying, too,” I told her, the ache in my chest growing.
“Mrs. Landers actually told me to check on her one day.” Kami frowned. “I had no idea she was struggling so much.”
Dad groaned. “Gosh, I feel like an asshole.”
“This is where she’d tell you to watch your language,” I said with a small smile.
Dad laughed for the first time, his dimples appearing. It felt like I hadn’t seen them for so long. “I do feel like one, though. I hurt the woman I love the most. The mother of the children who mean everything to me.” He looked at us with a small smile, his eyes heavy. “I love seeing her look back at me when I look at you.”
More tears burned behind my eyes. “We have the best of both you and Mom.”
Kami nodded, her own eyes glossy. “We love you, Dad. No matter what.” She got up to hug him, and I did the same.
“Thank you, kids. I’m so happy to have you in my life.” Dad gave a low sniffle as if he were about to cry. “But I still have to make things right with your mom.”
“You can call her,” Kami said, nodding to his phone on the table. “She’d want to hear your voice. Hear you say you love her.”
Dad squeezed our hands. “I’ll do that.”
We finished up our breakfast, updating each other about our lives. Dad was getting along with his coworkers and had arrested a few drug dealers who’d been on the run. Kami had become friends with Hayden’s sister, Lana, who invited her over for dinner. I told them I’d made up with Hayden and gushed about my night with Raina—minus details that would give Dad a heart attack.
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d been so open about our lives at once.When we reallysaweach other.
