Page 58 of The Secret We Keep
Absolutely not.
At least, I don’t think I did.
I’m finding lately that there are memories or moments in time that I think are real, but I can’t recall the finer details. Like when you wake up from a really great dream and someone asks what it was about, but you can’t begin to explain it.
When I’m alone, I know my truth. I know what happened and the way that I feel. Since hanging around with Paddy, I can honestly say it’s felt like living in a dream. I haven’t worried as much or overthought situations like I usually do.
“You’re telling me you like spending time with him?” my father asks cynically.
I look up, realising he’s talking to me. “I think so.”
He scoffs. “Youthinkyou like a man who you had no problem sticking your tongue down his throat?”
I’m looking at him, but my gaze is zoned out. Disconnected once again. “I like him.”
My mum comes and sits next to me on the sofa. She plays with a lock of my hair before looking at my father with a pleading look in her eye. “It’s okay to like someone, Morgan. But we’re just concerned for you. That’s all.”
I turn to look at her properly as she hands me some painkillers. “Why?” I ask, wondering how me liking someone would worry her.
She fidgets in her seat. I know she wants what’s best for me, but I feel numb by the lack of breathing space I have here.
In her silence, I say, “I’m twenty-one now. I’m allowed to like someone.” Picking up my glass of water, I swallow the pills in my hand.
“We’re not saying you’re not, hun.”
My dad mutters something under his breath.
“You have a message from the interview you know. I wrote it on the pad by the phone. You’ve been so busy lately with Paddy and walking the O’Keefe’s dog, you must have missed it,” Mum says.
“Or you simply don’t care anymore.”
My eyes hone in on my dad. “I care,” I tell him gently, placing my glass on the coffee table. “I didn’t know there was a message. I’ll call them back tomorrow.”
Dad huffs. “No need, I called them back on your behalf and accepted the job for you. You start Monday.”
My mouth parts slightly. “What?” I ask, my heart stuttering.
“Hun—”
“You called them back and accepted it for me? Why did you do that? How is that fair?”
“You want to talk to me aboutfair? Nothing about life is fair, alright.” His face turns a shade of maddening red. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. “You have no idea how hard I have worked for you and for this family. And you want to talk to me aboutfair?” Dad paces around the room, blowing heavy breaths.
When he sniffs, I feel helpless. Guilty. Ashamed that I don’t know how to make it better. “Dad?”
“Morgan, please. Don’t make this any more difficult. Youwillbe there on Monday. And youwillhave some normality in your life. I know Holly will agree with me, so if you won’t listen to me, speak to your best friend who will tell you that enough is enough.”
Mum’s back falls against the sofa as she sobs silently to herself.
“Holly is away with her aunt. I’m not calling her and ruining her time with family all because you think you know best.”
He sighs heavily. “Wedoknow best,” Dad blasts, eyes wide, lips pursed and seething. “This is the end of this discussion. I can’t listen to this any longer.” He turns to walk away but I can tell he isn’t finished. “You know, your mother and I were married at your age.Married,” he says sounding exasperated, like he can’t quite believe I’m twenty-one, unemployed and not in a relationship.
“So I should be like you and Mum and marry someone quickly? Catch up with my peers for a more fulfilling life? Work a boring job because society tells me I should be doing all these things?”
Dad’s voice drops, his tone deeper. “I married your mother because it was the right thing to do and because I loved her. I work the hours I do so that I can provide for you and everything you need.”
“Everything Ineed?” I repeat sarcastically. “I don’t need anything from you, and yet you throw the fact that you work the hours you do like I’m your biggest burden.”
