Page 88 of Situationship
“Then stop acting like a kid.”
“I’m trying, but my dad works, like, all the time. So I guess I’m living my life by Dr. West’s handbook. I’m showing initiative by earning my own money.”
Teagan’s chest pinched painfully for the girl who was acting out to get her dad’s attention. She was in such a rush to grow up but didn’t want to face the separation that came with it. “How would he feel about your showing that initiative?” Teagan sat on the lounger next to her. “If you started being honest with him, he might loosen his grip a little.”
“He’s never loosened anything no matter what I do.”
“He never let you stay out after curfew or go somewhere he’d rather you didn’t?” she asked, and Maddison studied her purple-painted toes.
That’s what I thought. Because while Colin had sounded like a crazed dad the other day and never bothered to sugarcoat things—things like his unresolved feelings about thatDear Colinletter—Teagan knew he was a fair man.
“I guess. Sometimes. But not lately.”
“What happened lately?”
“I lied to him.”
“About a guy?” Maddison gave another of her little shrugs. “Don’t start lying for a guy now or you might end up my age and still lying for them.”
“I didn’t liefora guy, I liedabouta guy.”
“A lie is a lie,” Teagan said. “Take it from me, lies lead to mistrust.”
“You sound like my dad.”
Teagan shrugged. “Your dad’s a smart guy. And he loves you.”
Teagan didn’t know what she’d said, but she’d stepped on a landmine because Maddison shot to her feet and stalked to the end of the porch. “He’ll never love you, if that’s what you’re after.”
The comment was meant to hurt and it did. But Teagan wasn’t angry. Maddison was scared of being replaced. But she was failing to see that Colin was equally scared. Parents had one job. To prepare their kids for adulthood, make sure their wings were ready for flight before they left the nest. But no one talked about what happened to the mama bird left behind. Or, in this case, the papa bird.
Colin was about to go from a house full of life and laughter to weekly video chats with the daughter who, for the past seventeen years, had been his everything.
“You know your dad’s going to miss you when you go off to college,” she explained. “He’ll miss you every moment of the day.”
“I know,” she said quietly, leaving Teagan to wonder if she really did know. After being left by one parent, it was hard not to wait for the second shoe to drop—no matter how devoted that parent might be.
“He’s probably going to be a little lost after you leave.”
Maddison snorted. “He has my uncle and aunt. And he has work.”
“Your uncle has your aunt. His patients all have owners. Your dad has you. That’s how it’s been since the day you were born.”
“And he’ll still have me.”
“Of course, but—”
“Look.” Maddison stood. “I hate to break it to you, but he doesn’t do long-term,” she said, and Teagan worked hard to school her features. “He lives for his work and family; there isn’t any room for anyone else. I’m not trying to be mean, just telling you how it is.”
With that, Maddison walked back across the sand and, shoes off, slipped through the back door.
Chapter 22
No relationship is all sunshine, but two
people can share one umbrella and survive the
storm together.
