Hate to Date You (Dating #4) - Monica Murphy Page 0,86

then get the hell out so I could go back to my apartment and continue to be depressed.

Instead I’m confessing everything to them, and guess what? The world didn’t come to an end.

Who knew?

Apparently, everyone else but me.

Within a few minutes I’ve reassured my mother I don’t need any more comfort and we’re once again all in our seats and eating dinner. The relief I’m experiencing at being truthful with my family for once in my life is enough to give me my appetite back, and I eat like I haven’t had a meal in days. My mama’s chicken marsala is so delicious, I have a second helping, and I can’t help but think that maybe someday, if I work things out with Carter, she’ll let me make it for him.

Doesn’t that sound wonderful?

Ha. I’m tempted to tell myself to keep dreaming.

Daddy is quiet. I think he’s mad, and I’m sure he’ll want to talk to me about it eventually, but I’ll be okay. At the end of the day, his disappointment does not rule me. I’m my own woman, and I can survive this.

I feel like I can survive just about anything. Even the loss of Carter.

Though I don’t want to.

Just as my mother is passing out dessert—vanilla ice cream on top of a warm brownie, yum—Michael announces they’ve agreed on a contractor to renovate Nonna’s house. My future house.

“He’ll be coming by the house first thing Monday morning. Did you want to be there to go over some things with him, Stella?” he asks me. “This will be your house, after all. You can make some specific requests, if you’d like.”

“Oh, that would be great! But I have to work,” I start to say, but my father waves a hand, cutting me off.

“I’ll come in and cover you,” he says grumpily.

My mouth drops open yet again. I can’t remember the last time my father was actually a barista. He usually just works the front counter now, sort of as the face of Sweet Dreams, and only during the busy hours, so people can say they talked to him. He’s kind of an institution in our area. “Um, are you sure, Daddy? It’ll be extra busy. Mondays can be a nightmare sometimes.”

Another wave of his hand, his expression full of irritation. “I can handle it. I used to do it all the time, before you were even born!”

It was a different time then. Not everyone was so coffee obsessed as they are now. “How about I open and you cover me from about seven-forty-five until I’m done with the contractor?”

“Sounds like a deal,” he says with a nod, his gaze still holding mine. “And Stella, while you must know I’m disappointed in this—situation, I have to say, I hate that you felt the need to keep things from me From all of us.”

Guilt forms a ball in the pit of my stomach and I drop my head, staring at my lap. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“I’m sorry too. I don’t like knowing that you kept things from us because you were afraid of disappointing me and your mother,” he explains.

Is my father actually apologizing to me, as if he’s responsible for turning me into a liar? Get out of town.

“I’m the coward who couldn’t tell you,” I admit.

“My dearest daughter, there are many words I would use to describe you, but coward isn’t one of them.” He smiles at me, his expression soft. Kind. His dark brown eyes are full of love. “You are one of the bravest women I know. You do what you want, and you blaze your own path despite knowing how angry I might get. You are fearless.”

“I haven’t felt very fearless lately,” I confess.

“Then find that feeling again and do something with it. Don’t squander it.” He lightly pounds the table with his curled fist, making the plates and silverware rattle and both my brother jump. “Don’t be afraid to go after what you want. You deserve happiness.”

His words stick with me through the rest of dinner. During dessert. Even when we’re all done eating and we’ve retired to the family room to sit around and chat. All my turbulent emotions over the last few days have left me tired. So tired, my eyelids are heavy and as I sit next to my nonna on the loveseat, I’m trying my best not to drift off to sleep when I feel someone poking my side.

I blink open my eyes and turn to look at her, to see