Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
My gaze drifts over to where Coach Bev is sitting. Banks is the only person I recognize at the table. I wait a few more minutes before scooting my chair back and rising from my seat. Lach follows suit, so we politely excuse ourselves and head to the lobby. One of the men traveling with us is walking the lobby and turns to acknowledge us.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, loud enough for him to hear. “Do I turn this off?”
“You don’t have to,” he says, his lips pulling into a smile. “Trust me, there’s nothing in this world we haven’t heard.”
I look at Lachlan and shoot him a look that amuses him, but he has the sense not to laugh. I don’t want to leave the mic on while I’m actually in the stall, but I’m more scared than I am embarrassed. At least, I think I am. The doors beside us open suddenly, and we turn to see my father step out, jaw dropped when he looks at me.
“I thought it was you,” he says, his voice hoarse as he walks over to me.
Before I can even say hello, he throws his arms around me and hugs me tight. I’m not sure what I expected would happen when I saw him again, but it wasn’t this kind of greeting. He showed me indifference for so long that this doesn’t feel real. I know it’s genuine, but it doesn’t feel real. When he pulls away, he holds me by the shoulders and looks at my face again, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Oh my God, Lyla.” He shakes his head, blinking back tears as his hands leave my shoulders. “Where have you been?”
“In med school.”
“Med school?” He blinks, brows shooting up. “Wh-how?”
I know what he’s asking is, “with what money?” He’d be right to have that question, since he paid for everything I’ve ever had. I may have been ignored many times and shown indifference to others, but money and the things it could buy were never something I lacked. That included school. When I left, I forfeited all of it. Since I didn’t want to be found, I didn’t even get into the bank account that had been set up for me as an infant. I’d borrowed money from Prescott and Marissa.
Even though they’d been adamant about not paying them back, I did. Of course, paying them back meant I could only pay the bare minimum of my school loans, but I couldn’t complain about the financial struggle I was experiencing for the first time, when so many lived paycheck to paycheck their entire lives. Dad’s still staring at me like he can’t believe I’m real. I study him just as intently — his light brown eyes, smooth dark complexion, and the natural waves in his short hair. He’d always seemed larger than life to me, and in stature, he still is, but right now, I feel bigger and stronger than him in every other aspect. I clear my throat when I realize we’ve just been standing there, staring at each other.
“I did it on my own,” I say.
His confusion is replaced by a proud smile. “Wow, your mother would be so proud.”
My heart stops for a moment. He’s never spoken a word about her since the accident. Not when I needed him to. I’m not sure I like that he’s doing it now. He doesn’t deserve to, but he was with my mother longer than I’d been alive at that point, so I can’t say a thing about it. I take the compliment for what it is. My mother would be proud of me, but she would have been proud, regardless of what I’d accomplished.
“You didn’t say goodbye,” he says, clearing his throat, his eyes filling with tears again. “I know I was a shitty father, but I thought I’d at least get a goodbye.”
“I wish I had been able to say goodbye,” I say, because it’s true, even though I won’t apologize for not doing so. “It’s a long story.”
Even if I had the time to get into the entirety of it, I’m not sure I would. What am I supposed to say? That his best friend sexually assaulted me multiple times, and because of him, my mother and friend are dead? In my mind, it sounds far-fetched, so I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if I said it aloud. His gaze drops to the ring on my finger. It’s kind of impossible to miss. He looks up at me again, the question clear in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask it.
“Will you come to the house tomorrow?” he asks instead, then looks over at Lachlan like he’s just realizing he’s standing here. “Hey, man. I’m sorry, I just. . .”
“Don’t apologize to me,” Lach says, his voice and expression hard.