Page 67 of Puck Drop
“Logan,” she cries out again, this time more desperate. I want to give her my attention, but at the same time, I don’t want to lose my momentum with her father.
“Yeah, she lost her job with the Aces,” I nod in confirmation. “It’s not because she wasn’t any good at it, but sometimes shit happens. It happens to all of us, and I’d bet money that it happened to you, too, back at the beginning of your career.”
I am so worked up, my chest hurts from the effort not to grab Elizabeth and walk out of here, right after telling her father to fuck off.
“Yeah, she lives with me now,” I continue. “I jumped at the opportunity to help her. I love her, and I am blown away by everything she left behind just to be with me. No one has ever done that for me in my entire life!”
I am breathing hard now, like I just ran a marathon. In fact, I may even be close to a damn heart attack. I need to pause my rant so I can recover. Elizabeth still has her hand clenched onto my arm, but she suddenly lets go and stands up. The force of it pushes her chair back, bringing our attention on her.
“I can’t believe how the two of you talk about me like I am not even in the room,” she cries.
I feel bad when I hear her tone that’s full of heartbreak. In my quest to tell her father off, I completely ignored her presence.
“I’m sorry, baby…”
“No,” she stops me. “I am done here. Can we go?”
I stand up right away. “We sure can.”
We both stare at her father who continues sitting in his chair, perfect poker face in place.
“I’ve always wanted you to be proud of me, daddy,” Elizabeth tells him. “But now that I’ve been away for a while, I realize how I never tried to do anything on my own. I depended on you for everything…”
“Just like you now depend on your boyfriend for everything,” he snaps at her. “What will happen when you two are over? Who is going to take care of you then, Elizabeth?”
A soft sob escapes the back of her throat. “Why are you assuming that we will not work out? Why can’t you be happy that I have someone in my life who loves and appreciates me? More importantly, someone who wants to be in my life.”
Mr. Brown shakes his head at her in disappointment. “You forced yourself into his life, Elizabeth. You didn’t give him the choice.”
She turns her head to look at me, devastation marring her features. This is something she mentioned before herself, something she’s been so worried that I felt as well. The fact that her father digs into her deepest fears brings her further down.
I cup her face and keep her still, not allowing her to look away when she wants to.
“Don’t let him get into your head like this, baby. I love you. I would’ve never asked you to move into my house if I didn’t want you there.” This is something I’ve been repeating to her for the last three weeks. “Please believe that.”
Her eyes are full of tears that are now flowing freely down her cheeks, messing up the makeup she was so proud of earlier.
“Can we leave now?” she asks. “I want to go home.”
Without letting go of her, I run my thumbs under her beautiful eyes that are now so sad looking. Tonight was supposed to be a fun time. We would come and eat and dance, and have a good ol’ time. Instead, we are stuck in a conference room with her father who is dead set on destroying our life together.
I kiss her gently on the lips, allowing for the kiss to linger. I can only assume that her father would shoot me dead if he had a gun on him at the sight of me kissing his daughter.
“Let’s go, Lizzie.”
I let go of her head and grab her hand, holding it tightly. We both turn to face her father, ready to say our goodbyes to him. As far as I’m concerned, I hope to never see him again for the rest of my life.
“You are going to regret this, Elizabeth,” he speaks as he addresses his daughter. “He is not going to make you happy, not like you deserve it.”
Elizabeth takes a shaky breath in before she lets it all out.
“Don’t you think I deserve to find that out on my own, daddy?”
His eyebrows go up in surprise.
“If this is a mistake,” she continues, “shouldn’t I be allowed to make it? I don’t want to live the rest of my life with regret… Alone… Like you?”
He is offended by that, no doubt. “I’m not alone,” he protests, maybe a little too quickly.
