Page 106 of Burning Daylight
“Let’s talk about your mother.”
I grit my teeth, eyes flicking toward my dad who’s sitting on my front porch, sipping iced tea and watching the sunset.
“Let’s not,” I reply.
He gives me a disappointed look.
My thumb spins the ring on my finger so fast it blurs in my vision. The last thing I want to do is give him power by doing whatever he says, but at some point, I have to give up this weird need to stay in control and just trust this will work out.
If I don’t, I might drive myself insane.
I may have already if it weren’t for the fact that every night over the past week, I’ve snuck to Upside Down Rock and met with Juliette. Sometimes, we spend hours talking about everything and nothing and all the in between. Other times, we sit in silence andcreate. She writes her stories, and I drawher.
It’s always her.
A sense of longing wraps around me.
Juliette would want me to face whatever my life has turned into head-on. If we’re relegated to dark corners and fakeboundaries that don’t come close to defining what we really are, the least I can do is make the sacrifices worth it.
“Fine,” I admit. “But…I came here for Brooke.She’swho I want to talk about. She needs health insurance and money for her meds. I didn’t know what else to do.”
He nods, grimacing. “You don’t know what she’s sick with?”
That familiar desolation rises in me.
Helplessness.
“No, it just came on a few years back. She has good days and bad. Lots of headaches, dizziness, vomiting. Seizures. But everything checks out in tests, so they don’t know what’s wrong.”
My father looks sad. “Genetic testing?”
I shrug. “We only have Mom. No clue who her father is.”
My dad frowns like the thought of my mom with someone else pains him. “If I had known you were struggling so much…”
A hit of gratitude smacks me in the face. I don’t want to feel anything other than resentment toward him. The anger is comfortable. Familiar. This new sensation makes me itch. “Yeah, well, I needed a dad either way.”
He swallows harshly, his gaze never straying from the backyard, but when he replies next, his voice is thick. “I should have done better to care for you. I didn’t realize Heather?—”
“That’s right,” I cut him off. “You didn’t.”
Who does he think he is, trying to have this heart to heart now? I’ve got news for him—he’s about five years too late. Where was this man when I came to him the last time, when I was basically arms wide open, begging for him to care?
He wasn’t sick then.
Dad leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Have you spoken to Brooklynn about her trust?”
I clear my throat.I would if she’d answer her phone.“She won’t be interested.”
He sighs, then nods. “Well, in any case, I’ve got a health insurance plan with her name on it, Roman. She can’t say no to that, can she?”
My lungs squeeze with hope, or fuck, I don’t know what. But it’s light and unbelievable, and like maybe being hereisn’tthe worst thing in the world, even if it means giving up everything else that matters.
Even if it means I don’t get Juliette.
I breathe in deep and rock back in the patio chair, gazing out at the sun. A million different thoughts swirl in my head, and a thousand different feelings spiral through me, mixing like a heavy sludge and slicking my insides.
But…I believe him. I think.
