At that, he twists his face into an almost-pained grimace. “If your mother were still alive, she’d be ashamed of you.”
He says that so calmly that it takes a second for the full meaning of the words to get through to me. They’re like a slap in the face, and I flinch back from him and his rage. “Let me explain, Dad. It really isn’t what you think. Graham and I already knew each other before we—”
Suddenly, my father raises his arm and hurls the phone violently against the wall. It shatters, and the shards of black glass and pieces of plastic are strewn across the floor. I stare at him in disbelief.
“I’m telling you one last time. You are never to speak to that man again. Do you understand me?” His voice is now trembling with rage.
“I’m trying to explain that it’s not—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Lydia,” he growls.
I hate it when he’s like this. That he won’t listen to me even though he knows I have something to say.
“I didn’t do everything in my power to protect your reputation just for you to make yet another thoughtless choice. This ends now, got that?”
It feels like someone’s thrown icy cold water in my face. I need a moment to get my voice back. “What do you mean ‘protect my reputation’?”
The expression on Dad’s face hardens. “I made sure that this family’s name won’t be dragged through the mud again. You should be grateful, not look at me like that.”
My throat is constricted. “It was you?” I croak. “You gave the photos to Mr. Lexington?”
Dad’s cold eyes are fixed on my face. “Yes.”
I feel as though I can’t take in enough air. Nausea rises within me, and the room starts spinning. I reach out a hand to the chair in front of me, for something to lean on.
My own father is to blame for Graham losing his job and James’s girlfriend being suspended.
“Why did you do it?” I whisper.
The need to explain my situation to him has crumbled to dust. All there’s room for inside me now is disbelief—and incredible fury, which is racing through my veins, gaining speed with every second.
“Because your reckless behavior could destroy this family. Do you really not give a damn what you’re putting at risk?”
“Family? You don’t give a flying fuck about this family!” I snarl, clenching my fists. My arms are trembling, and I feel like I could burst. “All you care about is money. You don’t give a fuck how James and I are doing since Mum died. And now you’re standing there, expecting me to be happy that you got my boyfriend fired from his job?”
Dad’s nostrils flare briefly at the word “boyfriend,” but that’s the only reaction his face gives away.
“I’d do more than that to save the good name of this family.”
His calm voice is really winding me up. My breath is racing faster and faster, and I’m digging my fingernails so hard into my palms that I’m sure it’s about to draw blood.
“You should be grateful to me, Lydia,” he adds.
My rage boils over. I can’t hold the words back now; they flood out of me uncontrollably. “You might have got him kicked out of the school, but you can’t wipe him out of my life!” I scream at the top of my voice.
“You’ll see what I can do.” Dad turns away and is about to leave the room.
But I’m not finished.
“No, you can’t. Because I’m pregnant.”
He stops dead. In slow motion, he turns on his heel to face me. “What?”
I jut out my chin defiantly. “I’m pregnant. By Graham.”
It’s strange to watch his reaction. For a moment he just looks at me and blinks several times in a row—like the guy in the GIF. Then his shoulders start to shake like he’s finding it hard tobreathe evenly, and red dots form on his cheeks, his forehead, and his throat.
I’d thought I knew every variant of Dad’s anger. James and I learned young to read the smallest twitch of his face or his body language, and to make a break for it in time.
