Page 3 of Fate on the Ice

Clearing my throat, I stand in front of him and rock back on my heels, waiting.

It was an exciting game last night, from what I caught on television, and I’m surprised that he’s here instead of at home resting. I’m sure he spent the whole night partying. I can remember when I was little, and he’d stay out all night after a big win… or a big loss.

When I don’t say anything, eventually, he slowly lifts his head, his eyes finding mine, and they widen at the sight of me standing in front of him. Once the expression of shock wears off, it’s replaced with utter anger.

“What in the actual fuck are you doing here?” he growls.

He’s pissed off that I’m standing here. He’s not happy to see his daughter, which doesn’t surprise me. I don’t think he’s ever been happy to see me. Not when I was five, not now.

I think about lying to him. But I didn’t come all this way to do that. No matter how badly I want to.

“I failed,” I confess.

“Failed?” he asks, his voice and tone demanding and impatient.

Dipping my chin in a single nod, I flick my gaze down to my feet. Saying those two words was hard enough. I don’t know how I’m going to explain exactly how I failed. But it’s clear that my father wants more details.

And those are embarrassing—every single one of them. Straightening my shoulders, I square them, inhaling a deep breath. I hold it for a moment before I let it out slowly. My tongue slips out to slide across my lips.

Trying to think of how to put what’s happened to me in words, I clear my throat and take a step backward. I want to run. I want to go as far away as I can, but I have nowhere to go. I ran away to here, after all.

“It doesn’t matter how,” I whisper. “I just failed, and I’m here for help.”

I hope this is enough. I don’t want to go into the details. I’m embarrassed enough as it is with just me knowing, let alone having to tell anyone, especially him.

He snorts. “Why are you here?” he asks. “Your mother turn you away.”

My father and I aren’t close, but he does know the exact dynamic of the relationship between my mother and me. And just my mother in general. He can’t stand her. They’ve been divorced for over a decade, but he knows her better than anyone.

“She did,” I say. Lifting my chin slightly, I look down my nose at him. “She doesn’t understand. She told me that I would have to figure out life on my own now.”

He shakes his head a couple of times. “I should say the same. Tough love and all that shit,” he grunts.

I almost laugh at the love part. He’s never expressed even an ounce of that toward me.

“But you’re my daughter, and I can’t just turn my back on you. That doesn’t mean I’m going to make anything easy on you, Gracie.”

I hate it when he calls me Gracie. I’ve never liked it. But right now, I can’t really tell him that. He’s my only hope for help. As much as I want to tell him to shut up when he calls me that, I can’t.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

I watch as my father stands, then walks around his desk before he takes a few steps toward me.

“Gracie,” he calls out, his voice a bit softer than it was a few moments ago.

This is his tone when he’s getting ready to tell me something that he knows I don’t want to hear, will hurt my feelings, or when he’s going to let me down easily. Although nothing is easy when it comes to my parents. They are selfish, wrapped up in their own lives, so much to the point that I think they forget about my existence unless I am in their faces, much like I am right now.

“You’re going to need a job and to get your own place. I’ll help you with deposits and all of that,” he says. “And then you’re going to need a plan for the future.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“Now, let’s get some dinner. You can tell me what the fuck happened. You can also tell me about that fuckwit your mother married.”

I almost groan. The thought of not only telling my father why I failed but also about my mother’s husband simultaneously makes me want to puke. I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat and hold down dinner.

But he walks past me and expects me to follow him—which I do. Because I’m forever the good daughter, even when they don’t deserve me.

Chapter

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