“You didn’t come down for dinner last night, so I brought you breakfast.”

“Thanks.” I take the plate from his hands. It smells good. Better than the sloppy pancakes he tried to make.

“May I come in?” he asks.

I nod, taking a seat on the edge of my bed, creating a dip in the mattress that hugs my sides.

The air between us grows heavy as we both remain silent. I want to say more than what I have, but it’s hard for me. The words are stuck in my throat. After what he said last night, I know that I’m not the one who should start the conversation, though.

Five minutes. That’s how long it feels like until he finally takes two significant strides and sits down next to me. A whiff of his cinnamon aftershave goes through my nostrils, and I cringe.

I always hated that scent. Not that it doesn’t smell good. It does, but it’s so essential. Every older man uses the same aftershave.

I stare at the food on the plate and wait for him to tell me what he wants to. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t have something to say. An apology would be nice.

It’s as if he read my mind because he sighs and says, “I’m sorry, Summer.” There’s a short pause before he continues. “Life is hard. Expensive. As a father, I want nothing more than for you to succeed in the world we live in. And your mother… she didn’t have the best options for you. She failed in that area, which led me to pick up the pieces.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, my heart growing heavier with each beat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice… and calling you a prick, Dad. You’re not. You’re a great father, and I just…”

I stop because I don’t know what else to say. Instead, I shake my head because giving him that is better than giving him nothing.

The light pressure of my father’s hand on my lower back brings me slight comfort.

“Your mother was a handful, princess. She struggled with severe depression and oftentimes couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t want you to see her that sad.”

It hurts that I never noticed that Mom was depressed. Maybe if I didn’t spend so much time at the mall with Chloe, I would have.

I stare at the ceiling and think for a moment. “Mom was wonderful to me.”

“Yes. She was,” he agrees.

I don’t understand what he is trying to say.

His thumb moves back and forth on my back in short motions until he takes my plate from my hands and places it on my desk. When he sits back down, I adjust myself so one leg is propped on my bed and the other dangles off the edge.

My eyes meet his, and he gives a warm half-smile before looking away.

“For a while, your mother and I were very unhappy. She wanted nothing more than to see you graduate and go to college. But once you left, things between us got worse. There are things about your mother that you don’t know.”

My eyes narrow. “Like what?”

He sighs heavily. “After trying multiple different medications, she didn’t want to live the way she was anymore. The doctor recommended CBD. Do you know what that is?”

I nod. My lungs pinch, making it harder to breathe.

What is he trying to say?

“Well, when that didn’t help… she went out of her way and started looking for something else to take the pain away.”

I close my eyes, my stomach suddenly cramping. I shake my head repeatedly. “No.”

“Honey, she got herself caught up with some bad people. We don’t know who yet, and that is what we’re trying to find out. I only have so much information.”

“Are you telling me Mom was doing drugs?”

He doesn’t say anything, and that is enough for me.

This is impossible. My mother would never.