Page 107 of If We Say Goodbye

“No, I haven’t seen them!” He waves me away. “Go, before she catches you.”

I race out of the kitchen and onto their back porch, stuffing my feet halfway into my shoes.

Caleb leans outside. “Hey, Bec?”

“What?” I ask, whirling around.

He hooks his finger underneath my chin. “Just one more.” He kisses my lips before hurrying to close the door behind him. I jump out of view as his mother walks into the kitchen, giggling to myself.

An orange glow from the sunset coats the grass as I cross the yard.

I touch my lips, smiling.

Once inside my own house, I kick off my shoes and head up the stairs.

The house is quiet and dark. The only sound is coming from Ethan’s room where, through the crack in the door, is my dad. He sits on the bare bed with one of Ethan’s shirts in his hands. Tears streaming down his face.

I don’t recognize him, not like this. He’s brave. He always controls his emotions and keeps them hidden. I’ve never seen him fall apart. Maybe all he needs is someone to be with him.

“Dad?” I squeak through the crack.

The shirt drops, and he clears his throat. He stands, walking over to the door. My heart lifts. I expect him to open it, to finally talk to me like old times, to let us cry together.

But he closes the door in my face, once again pushing me out.

And just like that, my heart shatters.

I don’t argue.

I don’t beg.

I just walk down the hallway to my room, where I’m a safe distance away from his pain.

Why does he keep pushing me away?

I shake off the disappointment. There’s no point in getting upset over it because it’s a phase. It’ll pass in time.

As if on autopilot, I pull out my phone and call Caleb. As it rings, I stare out my window, waiting for his bedroom light to spill through the early night.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I say, laying down on my bed, curls scattering everywhere.

“Apparently, you can’t get enough of me,” he says, laughing through the phone.

“I just needed to think about something else.”

His light flashes on. “Because of the whole Mom thing?”

“No. That was kind of fun.”

“Then what’s up? You sound a little down,” he says.

I roll onto my side and tug a pillow against my chest. Part of me wishes the pillow was actually Caleb. “My Dad’s home.”

“Ah,” he pauses. I imagine he’s thinking of how to tiptoe around the wrong questions. “Did something happen?”

“It’s like he doesn’t see me anymore.” My voice is small, not wanting to hear the words coming out of my own mouth. “Sometimes him pushing me away hurts more than Ethan being gone. Ethan didn’t leave by choice, but my dad is.”

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