“Naomi—”
“Leave.Now!”
I shout the last word. I can feel tears burning my eyes. I don’t want him to see me cry or try to stay and comfort me when he’s the reason that I feel betrayed.
“Can’t we just—”
He’s still standing too close to me. I press both hands against his abdomen, pushing him away. He could easily overpower me, but he lets me push him all the way to the door. When we reach the front door, I open it, shove him into the hallway, and then slam the door behind him.
ChapterThirty
OF ALL THE BUILDINGS
Luca
When I flew out to Miami, I hadn’t planned on forgiving Joel. I refused to even think of him as my dad. He had abandoned me and didn’t deserve the title. I didn’t plan to stay long. I only went because I wanted to talk to him face to face, to hear him try to explain why he thought he could waltz back into my life after all these years. I couldn’t believe he would imply that my mother was to blame for him abandoning our family.
I got a rental car at the airport because I wanted to be able to leave whenever I felt like it. I didn’t want to be at anyone else’s mercy. Joel had texted me the address of a coffee shop where I could meet him. I was glad that this reunion wasn’t taking place at his home, and especially glad that he wasn’t trying to impress me or win me back by taking me to some five-star restaurant.
He was already sitting in a booth when I got there. I almost didn’t recognize him. He had put on a few pounds and his hair had turned gray, but his eyes were still the same. He was wearing a security uniform. I could tell that he didn’t recognize me until I was standing in front of his table.
He stood up. “Luca?”
I nodded. He spread his arms slightly like he was going to hug me, then thought better of it, and extended his hand for me to shake. We sat down.
“I got you a coffee,” he said, pushing the cup toward me. “I don’t know how you take it, so…” He gestured toward the cream and sugar packets he had grabbed.
I took a sip of my coffee without adding anything. He watched me, eyes wide and expectant. I realized that he had no idea what he was supposed to say to me. After a tense moment of silence, I asked the only question I could think of: “Is this where you’ve been the whole time?”
He shook his head. “I started out in Montana. I only moved out here a few years ago.”
“Let me guess. You started a new family and abandoned them, too.”
“I understand why you’re angry,” he said.
I didn’t respond. I was done asking questions. It was his turn to provide an explanation.
He continued: “I met a woman shortly after I moved to Montana. Cheryl. We got married and we had three kids together. Twin girls and a boy.”
There were a few times over the years when I wondered if my dad had ever remarried or had another kid. When I was younger, when my family was still intact, I would have loved to have a brother or a sister. This wasn’t how I imagined it would happen.
“I have siblings,” I said. I thought that if I said it out loud, it would feel more real, but it didn’t.
He averted his gaze. “Things didn’t work out between me and Cheryl. It was a mutual breakup. Cheryl got a job offer out here shortly before our divorce was finalized. I helped with the move, then never went back to Montana.”
I smirked, but I found it far from funny. “So, let me get this straight. You break up with my mom and take off running to another state, never to be seen or heard from again. You break up with Cheryl and not only do you help her move, you uproot your life so that you don’t have to be far from your new kids.”
“I know that I was a terrible father to you—”
“No,” I interrupted. “You weren’t. That’s what always confused me. You used to take me to the beach every day. We built a home gym and worked out together. Every goddamn memory that I have of you is a good one. But then you up and left for no fucking reason, and I hated you for it. You don’t know how many times I wished that you were an asshole so that I wouldn’t have to miss you so damn much. What is so damn different about your new family that you could make it work with them and not me?”
“It had nothing to do with you.”
“It sure felt like it did when I didn’t hear from you for fifteen years.”
“Your mother and I—”
“Right. Blame her. She can’t defend herself now that she’s dead.”
