Page 15 of Payback
He picks up the glass to take a long drink again. I watch him as my eyes fill with tears that I could never seem to shed for the loss of my ex or Rosalie. But the tears for my father apparently fall freely.
“I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore,” I croak, walking over to the table and grabbing my handbag.
He eyes me warily. “I thought you wanted to have dinner.”
“Not here, in your apartment. I don’t know what I’m doing in Chicago. In your life. We barely speak because you don’t need me anymore. You have Rosalie. I don’t know why I’m surprised. She always did have you wrapped around her finger.” I state, knowing I sound childish but recalling all the times she manipulated my father into getting whatever she wanted.
“You’re being unreasonable.”
I nod thoughtfully before the image of my father walking Rosalie down the aisle in her white wedding dress flashes through my mind. The image makes me sick to my stomach because she has no right to take that moment away from me. And it’s not because I still care about Rosalie or Ghost Penis. It’s because my father’s involvement in their relationship and his ambivalence toward me shakes the very ground I walk upon.
“I need to go,” I state, turning on my heel and making my way out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” he asks, his tone flat and completely devoid of any emotion.
“I don’t know,” I call over my shoulder. “But anywhere is a hell of a lot better than here.”
