Page 55 of Before We're More Than Friends
“Manuel, please just tell them,” Mom told Dad, her voice breaking. Manuel, not Manny, what Mom usually called him. “This was already dragged out long enough.”
Dad’s muscles tensed. “I don’t appreciate?—”
“Tell them, or I will,” she snapped.
I leaned back in my seat, surprised to hear that harsh tone come from her. She never used that tone, especially not with him.
Dad huffed before facing us, a storm brewing in his blue eyes. “I’m serving time in federal prison for eighteen months.”
Everything inside me—my heart, my stomach, my lungs—collapsed, my breath stalling in the progress.
Mom let out a sob, black tears running down her cheeks. Dad reached to wipe them away, but she put his hand down. “Don’t.”
Arielle let out a gasp that sounded more like a squeak. “But . . .” She looked back and forth between Dad and Mom. “But . . . How long did you . . .” She put her hands in her hair. “Why? Why did you do this?”
Dad’s face pinched. “I haven’t made the best decisions with my money.”
“Not ‘making the best decisions’ and committing a tax crime are two completely different things!” Arielle shot up from the table. “You broke the actual law!”
“Arielle Elena Vermont, sit down right now.”
“Why should I?” A tear rolled down Arielle’s cheek. “You demand respect but never give it to anyone else.”
“Arielle, this is not how to act.” Dad’s voice grew harder, but he stayed seated. “This is difficult for all of us,and we can’t act off our emotions.”
“You’re telling me how to act? Over this?” Arielle scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Arielle, do not talk to him that way.” Mom’s stern tone returned. “He is still your father.”
“Neither of you acts like parents!” Arielle threw her hands up again as her tears smudged her makeup. “You never resist trouble, and you don’t care enough to change that. I don’t understand why. Why don’t you love us enough?” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the dining room.
It took me a few moments to realize that Mom and Dad were now looking at me. The realization that I hadn’t reacted yet washed over me. I’d expected to react how Arielle did, my face hot with anger and tears ruining my makeup. But I couldn’t feel the anger or the sadness or hurt course through me. I knew it was there, but numbness took over my body.
“I’m sorry, Raina,” Dad finally said, his eyes barely meeting mine as he bent toward me. “I know this isn’t the outcome we wanted.”
Was he only sorry for the outcome and not for what he did? Tears burned in the back of my eyes. He was more concerned about how uncomfortable admitting this was than what he’d done to himself. To us. Our family.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My thoughts were jumbling together like cars colliding on a racetrack. “Why?” I finally managed to squeak. “Why did you do it?”
“I haven’t made the right choices,” Dad said again. Like that was supposed to be an explanation for tearing our family apart.
The urge to get up and scream in his face rushed through me, but I couldn’t get up. I was stuck in my seat, experiencing the world crash on top of me. The tightness in the air closed my throat, numbing my ability to speak.
Mom continued to sob, holding her chest as she tried to breathe. Her makeup was completely ruined, dripping onto herneck and suit jacket. “I need to freshen up.” She got up and left the room, her legs wobbling with each step.
Not wanting to be in here alone with Dad, I got up as well.
“I’m sorry, Raina,” Dad said again. “But we’ll work through these challenges. I promise.”
Don’t promise anything, I wanted to snap.You’ve already broken enough. “Okay,” I said instead. “I just need to be alone.”
He nodded, his face stiffening. “I love you.”
I only managed to shake my head before running upstairs into my room, the tears falling one by one. I wished I’d never gone home early. I wished Mom and Dad had waited for us to get home to break the news if it meant I could go back to how my life was before. Before I knew my family’s fate.
All of this had been going on behind the scenes and I hadn’t even known. My world—our family—had been shattering beneath me the whole time, and I’d been living in blissful ignorance with my diamond bracelets and designer purses.
CHAPTER 15
