my fucking eggs and make test tube babies with them without my knowledge.”
Daddy scowls.
“Oh, that’s right! You already did all that. You already destroyed any chance I had at ever having a real life. So give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just do what Adeline did, huh? Tell me. One reason.”
Daddy’s jaw twitches.
“Do you even love me, Daddy?” I ask, in a pathetically small voice. “You’ve barely said it to me, even when I was a little girl. Do you?”
Daddy opens his mouth to reply, his expression stricken. But no words come out. He’ll be so angry. I shouldn’t have said that.
But then my father does something I’ve never seen him do before. Augustus Capulet, a man I’ve seen kill with his bare hands, when he thought I wasn’t watching. Augustus Capulet, the man who showed not an ounce of emotion at any of the funerals of his wife and children. Augustus Capulet, the most powerful — and most feared — man in California, blinks heavily, a single tear sliding down his cheek.
“More than the world,” he says, his voice breaking. “More than anything.”
Something inside me withers and dies. My father loves me, and he’s still sentencing me to this cruel travesty? It would have been better if he’d just said no.
“How can you do this to me if you love me?” I whisper.
My father steps forward suddenly, his broad arms wrapping around me, pinning my arms to my sides. He rests his head on my shoulder, since I’m taller than him standing on this little podium, and he holds me to him so hard it hurts me. After a moment, I let my head fall heavy to the side, resting atop his head.
“It’s not too late to stop this,” I whisper. “Dad.”
Daddy pulls away from me, wiping his face hastily. He smiles sadly, cupping my face in both of his palms, his eyes burning into mine as I search his gaze for some kind of hope. It’s madness to believe he’ll put a stop to what’s about to happen, but I’m hardly sane anyway.
“When you were a baby,” he says, his chin trembling, “I never knew what to do with you. Neither did your mother. We were spoilt rich kids who’d never held a baby before your sister was born. And she was so calm. She never cried. She slept when she was supposed to sleep, ate when she was supposed to eat, and smiled any time we pointed a camera at her. And then you came along, and we just assumed you would be like her.”
I’m bewildered. My father never speaks about memories, or our childhoods, anything.
“You came into this world screaming bloody murder,” Daddy continues, smiling proudly. “From the minute you drew breath, Avery, you’ve been a fighter. I knew you would be the one to take over the world, and so did you. You took over our world, and you made it very clear that you would always fight for what you wanted. Your mother and I didn’t know what to do with you. The only person who made you happy was your sister. That giant house with all its rooms and you weren’t happy unless she was in your crib, sleeping beside you. And she adored you. She would always say that you weren’t our baby, that you were hers. She was the only one who knew what you needed when you cried, while your mother and I stood by like we were part of the furniture.”
Hearing about Adeline and our mom makes me cry. I look up at the ceiling, trying to preserve my makeup before tears spill over and onto my cheeks.
“You are all I have,” Daddy says emphatically, catching a tear with his thumb before it can touch my cheek. “You mean more to me than anything, even if I’m incapable of showing it. Please trust me. There are things far worse than marrying Joshua, and I can’t protect you if you don’t do this.”
“Things far worse? Come on,” I scoff.
My father’s face loses any trace of the emotion he displayed just a second ago. “Would you prefer to be married to somebody worse? Would you?”
“Who could be worse than a forty-year-old man who was a teenager before I was even born?” I demand. “He’s old enough to be my father. Doesn’t that disgust you?”
Daddy tenses. “Not as much as the thought of you marrying Tyler Capulet. Do you really want to marry your psychotic cousin? Because if you don’t