Page 102 of The Love You Fight For
“You would choose a Harper over your family?” she asks.
“Tiffany, don’t,” my dad says in warning.
“No, Dad. No. He has to know the full extent of what he’s doing,” she snaps at our father before looking back at me. “You start something with her, you let a Harper into your life, and you will be choosing her over us. You know what they did to us. To Mom. To Michael. I can’t allow you to do that. I can’t let you do that to yourself.”
I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“It’s not your decision, Tiff, and you’re wrong. You’re wrong about Sam. I know it?—”
“You only think you know because?—”
“Iknow, Tiff! I know you’re wrong. I know because I know Sam, and I need you to trust me here. I’ve always been there for you, okay? I’ve always done what you’ve asked of me, and I’ve never expected anything from you. I’ve always made our family my top priority, and I don’t regret that, but I am asking you to fucking trust me now, okay? You aren’t wrong about the Harpers, but you’re wrong about Sam.”
My sister grits her teeth and her nostrils flare. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. She’s as stubborn as they come, and she’s always been fiercely protective of me.
“And when she breaks your heart?” Tiff says. “When she ruins your relationship with your family?”
I shake my head once.
“That won’t happen. I’m right, Tiffany. I know I am. You’ll see.”
She glances away without another word. She refuses to look at me. Refuses to budge even an inch. I sigh and turn to Michael and my dad.
“I’m going to head out. I’ll see y’all later.”
Michael nods and shakes my hand. My dad gives me one of those sympathetic smiles. I don’t say anything else to Tiff. I just head back through the house, dropping my soda can in the trash on the way.
When I reach the front door, Chy comes bounding down the stairs with one of those little portable hamster balls in her arms.
“Uncle Chris! You’re here!”
“Hey, Punk.” I ruffle her hair and give her a smile. “I actually have to leave, but I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Her face falls and she shrugs. “Okay. See ya.”
It fucking hurts, but I can’t be here right now. I give her a quick hug and walk to my truck. I drive to my house and park. I take out my phone and send Sam a text along with a picture of the lake from the boat dock.
Me
Thinking about that Blue Ridge gator.
I wait for five minutes, but she doesn’t respond. I force away the dread forming in my stomach and pull up my text thread with Macon.
Me
Want to box?
Macon replies immediately.
Macon
Loser buys diapers.
I laugh.
How does that benefit me if I win?
Like you’re going to win.
