Page 79 of The Relationship Clause

I round the table, heading straight for my dad, fists clenched, unthinking, but before I can reach him, I feel a tug on my elbow. I stop in my tracks, recognizing Junie’s touch even before I see her. She’s hugging my arm, clenching on to it with all her might.

If I wanted to, I could shake her off, and for a second, I almost do.

But then our gazes lock. Her endless, blue, ocean eyes plead with me to stop, and the anger inside me falters. One look from her is all it takes to bring me back to my senses. I won’t put hands on my dad. But I can’t leave things like this.

“You’re despicable,” I growl. For a second, I’m not sure Dad heard me. He blinks blearily, staring up at me towering over him as if he has almost forgotten who I am. “You’re an embarrassment to yourself and everyone at this table.”

Dad splutters. “I beg your—”

“Maybe Mom wasn’t perfect, but you were an awful husband to her. You were never home. You were never there for her.”

“Now wait jus’ one second.” Dad’s face becomes ruddy and enraged. A dark-purple vein pounds over his temple. “She wasssnever there for me. Nothing was more important than her business. Her precious job. And y’know what? You’re turning out to be exactly like her. I see you every time I go to your office, holed up there by yourself.”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” I whip away from him. At the last second, I grab Junie’s hand, towing her behind me but holding on for dear life. She’s the only thing keeping me from losing it again.

But Fred isn’t done yet. “You think you’re better than her?” he calls after my back. “Better than me? You think you’re going to sssomehow make things work with your little girlfriend there?”

“Good night, Father.”

“You’ll end up neglecting her like your mother and I neglected each other. You’ll see!”

The nerve he strikes is deep and painful. Everything I said to Junie comes back to me, about how I don’t want to end up like my parents and I want to try having a relationship with her. I asked her if that was fair to her, but she never answered. The strain of that unanswered question twists tighter in my chest.

Am I doing the right thing?

We have the attention of the whole restaurant now. Somewhere, someone drops a piece of silverware, and the discordant sound might as well be as loud as a gunshot. I’m paralyzed, too angry to let the conversation end like this but too uncertain within myself to continue. I hate everything about this.

“Owen.” Junie’s delicate fingers tug at mine. “Come on, Owen. Let’s get out of here.”

She pulls me away from the table, and eventually, I let her guide me away. I barely realize where we’re going. We make it through the restaurant, through the hotel, and then the biting sting of winter hits my cheeks. She’s taken me outside, behind the lodge where shoveled walkways meander through a frozen wonderland lit up with softly glowing strings of lights that, on any other night, might be considered magical.

She takes us down one of the paths. Neither of us speaks, and it almost feels like we could be running away together.

Eventually, the sound of laughter and voices registers through the haze of my thoughts. The path opens up to an ice skating rink filled with couples and families sliding around without a care in the world. We stop at the wrought iron gate surrounding the rink. Junie lets go of my hand, and I grasp the metal railing, letting the sharp, frozen prick shock my system.

A few deep breaths of cold mountain air fill my lungs. “Thank you. I—I’m so sorry about all that.”

She shrugs beside me. “It’s alright. I understand.”

“No, it’s not alright. My dad struck a nerve. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

“I know. Families can be complicated.”

I look down at her and realize with awful dread that she’s got her arms wrapped around herself. With nothing to protect her from the elements, I can see goosebumps raised up and down her skin. Quickly, I take my suit coat off and wrap it around her, then hug her close to my chest. She nuzzles against me, and a protectiveness I’ve never felt before surges through me.

“You’re not like your parents, you know,” she says quietly. Is she thinking about the time she compared me to my mom? Because I know I am.

“I believe that ninety-five percent of the time. But that last five percent… I mean, all through high school, I told myself I wasn’t going to go into business, but that’s what I ended up majoring in. Then, in college, I told myself that no matter what, I wouldn’t let myself become the kind of person who was single-mindedly focused on his career. Then that happened too. Sometimes I worry I’ll turn out like them despite all my efforts not to.”

She takes a deep, shaky breath. “I think I understand what you mean. More than you know.” She shakes her head. “But I shouldn’t make this about me.”

“No.” I kiss the top of her head, squeezing her tighter. “Keep going. I want to hear whatever you have to say.”

She’s silent for a while. The world goes on around us, people ice skating, buying hot chocolate from a nearby kiosk, but it’s like nothing else exists. I wait for her words, not caring how long it might take.

“Remember when I told you about how my mom left me and my dad?”

I nod, my cheek moving against the top of her head.

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