stop—just for a few hours—so I could take a full breath and get some relief. But then I had to leave, and that was hard.
It was hard not to sleep beside him.
Hard not to talk to him.
Hard not to tell him I loved him.
It was a bad idea and I’d expected Heath to throw me out on my ass, but he didn’t. He agreed, even though it seemed like he didn’t want to. He wanted me to change my mind, to go against the wishes of my family and choose him instead.
I couldn’t.
My phone rang beside me on the bed, Damien’s name on the screen.
I groaned because I didn’t want to talk to him. I’d ended things with Heath so our relationship would be normal again, but now I resented him, labeled him as the cause of my agony.
But I answered anyway. “Hey.”
It wasn’t Damien. It was my father instead. “Sweetheart, are you alright?”
My dad had an old cell phone he never used, and he’d probably lost it somewhere in his bedroom and Patricia had to search for it. His voice caught me off guard, and I immediately cleared my throat to sound normal. “Yes, Dad. Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Well, I haven’t seen you in two weeks.” His tone was full of accusation, like I’d seriously betrayed him in some way.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Just been busy.”
“I don’t like that. I want to see you. Remember, I won’t be around forever…”
He always guilt-tripped me right away.
“I’ll have Damien bring me over there—”
“I’ll come over for lunch tomorrow, Dad. How about that?”
“Now that’s more like it.” Then he hung up on me.
I knew exactly where Damien got his asshole tendencies from.
I made myself look nice, wearing a loose sweater, my hair in curls, and wore black leggings underneath with brown boots that reached my knees. Most women loved baggy sweaters with a warm cup of pumpkin spice latte in their hands.
Not me.
God, I missed the heat.
I walked inside, said hello to Patricia, and then headed to the dining room. Damien was probably at work, as was Anna, so I didn’t have to worry about seeing them. Obviously, I couldn’t avoid them forever, couldn’t prevent the inevitable conversation we would eventually have…when I told them I’d left Heath.
My dad was already sitting there, politely refraining from eating his food until I got there. When he saw me walk into the room, his eyes lit up in an indescribable way, as if nothing made him happier than seeing me. There was only one other person who ever looked at me that way—and he wasn’t in my life anymore. He got to his feet so he could kiss me on the cheek and embrace me, being affectionate and kind, like he hadn’t just snapped at me yesterday. “Sweetheart, you look beautiful as always.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I kissed him back then took a seat.
Patricia brought the salads first then the soups and sandwiches.
Dad ate right away, telling me about his mediocre life living with Damien, playing chess with him, watching his favorite shows in the evening, and telling me old stories he’d already shared hundreds of times. He rarely left the house unless it was to walk around the block to get some exercise.
It was easier just to listen to him talk because I wasn’t in the mood to be talkative.
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ve been working a lot. We’re finishing our last few shows, and we’re preparing for something new. So, lots of rehearsal…”
“That’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see it. You’re the star, I presume?”
I was definitely the best female lead, but I never said that out loud to anyone. “You’ll have to see.”
He smiled. “I definitely will.”
I stirred my spoon into my soup and watched it swirl. It was butternut squash, an autumn soup even though winter was right on our doorstep. It wouldn’t be long until Christmas. I couldn’t believe how quickly time had passed…how long it’d been since I’d met Heath on that summer night.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?”
“Yes.” I lifted my chin and looked at him again, not realizing how long I’d been looking down.
“Come on, Catalina. I’m your father.” He pointed his fingertips at his temple. “I know things…”
I smiled slightly. “Did you know your son is an asshole?”
“Yes, I knew that long before you did,” he teased. “Now, talk to me.”
“Dad, it’s nothing…”
“Come on. I’m great at giving advice.”
“Well, I don’t need advice on this.”
“Then I can listen.”
I stirred my soup again, my eyes down.
Dad