Dad hasn’t ever pushed his expectations on me out of malice, but he doesn’t understand just how much I’ve been stifled. He has no idea how often I’ve made decisions based on what he expected of me, on whateveryoneexpected of me.
Part of me, the tired part of me, wants to just fold like I always do under pressure. Accept what’s said at face value and don’t make a scene, even if I’ve made up my own mind this time. But there’s something else tugging at my brain stem this time. The part of me that hasn’t been able to stop looking at Kenzie no matter how badly it hurts, the part that screams in agony every time she avoids my gaze. That’s the part that takes hold of the reins as I finally look my dad in the eyes.
“I don’t care either way,” I say bluntly.
Color rises on my dad’s cheeks, that familiar anger at being defied flashing in his eyes. It doesn’t bother me anymore.
“Now, I’ve had about enough of?—”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have.” I sound tired when I cut him off, weary beyond my years, but I think it’s the unbending certainty filling my whole body that stops him in his tracks. “But I don’t care, Dad. I don’t care about anyone’s opinion but my own. This ismylife. I’m not going to keep following someone else’s choices, whether it’s you or Savannah trying to make them.”
He stares at me in shock, bushy brows rising at my nonchalant tone, but I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m won’t speak to him like I’m scared of losing my allowance. I’ll speak to him like I’m scared of losing the woman I love, and like he’s standing in the way.
“I’m not saying that I’m running away from it. Whatever the ultrasound says, I’ll take responsibility for my actions,” I say before he can start ranting. “I won’t let my child grow up without being taken care of, but I won’t have anything to do withSavannah. Kenzie is the only woman I’ll ever marry, and she’s the only woman I’ll ever be with, no matter what you have to say about it. If me doing therespectablething is more important to you than me ever having a chance at happiness, you can disown me for all I care.”
My tone is level in an attempt to keep our conversation from reaching anyone else, but I don’t allow an ounce of uncertainty to creep into my voice. The kids are all piling into their parent’s cars as Kenzie’s after school program winds down, and I’d rather not expose them to my private life.
Dad doesn’t seem to have such reservations.
“Who thehelldo you think you’re talking to, boy?” he bellows.
Several of the kids turn to glance our way in my periphery, but getting my dad to understand is more important than my privacy right now. Kenzie’s already climbing into her sedan, and I can’t let her go again. Even if I have to chase her down to her apartment, I’m not walking away this time.
“I’m talking toyou, Dad,” I say wearily. “I’m talking to you and hoping that you’ll decide your son is more important than your reputation. But if that’s not how it’s going to go, I have things I need to do.”
I need to talk to Kenzie. I need to apologize. I need to make the only thing that matters in my life right again.
Everything else can wait.
“How dare you turn your back on me?” my dad roars as I walk away. “You can’t walk away from this family, Boden!”
Kenzie’s car is already halfway down the driveway. Goddamnit.
I pull my keys out of my pocket and head straight for my truck as my dad yells behind me. I don’t look back as Mom’s voice join the fray, trying to calm him down and figure out what happened.
I already told him, I have important things to do.
Like get my girl back.
The drive to her apartment is silent. The radio stays off, but my blood pounds in my skull, too loud for me to even hear the rumble of my tires over the road. Too loud to hear myself think.
I don't know what I'm going to say when I get there.
I don't know if she'll listen to me.
But I have to try. The hard part’s already out of the way.
I park in the spot I always do, right next to her neat little sedan in front of her apartment. My legs shake as I step out of my truck, and the whole world feels jittery right now. What’s a few wobbly steps to add to it?
I hardly hear my own knocking on her door, and if it wasn’t for the way my knuckles sting from the force, I would worry I’m being too quiet.
Everything rushes right back into focus when the door swings open.
And there she is.
Red curls and long lashes and bright green eyes shadowed by uncertainty. Dainty fingers twisting one of her rings in the same nervous tic she's had since we were in school. I wonder if she can see a physical change in me, if I stand straighter or hold my chin a little higher.
I wonder if she can see how much I love her.
