Page 110 of Hate to Love You

I shake my head and ask, “How did you see that situation playing out?” I mean, did he seriously think his homewrecking fiancée would sit down with us and all my anger and sadness would just disappear? Or that I’d just magically be over it?

He opens his mouth and snaps it shut again, shrugging his shoulders. He taps his fingers against the metal tabletop. “I don’t know,” he finally murmurs. “But not like that.”

I lean toward him as anger and hurt bubble up within me. Ever since he walked out, these feelings have been my constant companion. They’re exhausting. Instead of losing my temper, I inhale a deep, calming breath and slowly release it. “I understand that you’ve moved on, Dad, but I haven’t. I’m still processing the fact that you and Mom aren’t getting back together.” I gulp and force out the rest. “My family has splintered apart, and you’re moving on with your life like it’s no big deal.”

“I’m sorry, Nat.” His hand slowly slides across the table until he’s able to slip my fingers into his. When I don’t pull them away, he squeezes them tight. “You’re the last person I ever want to hurt. You mean everything to me.”

You’d think after ten months that the pain of their separation wouldn’t feel so fresh, but it does. I don’t want to get emotional about this, but it’s hard to keep the tears at bay.

Even though I know it’s not going to happen, I can’t help but say wistfully, “I wish there was a way for you and Mom to work things out.”

Again, he squeezes my fingers. His eyes become shiny and full of emotion. It’s difficult to witness. And yet it feels good. Kind of like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I wish it could be that way, too. Deciding to leave wasn’t an easy decision. I spent years thinking about it, Nat. Years,” he emphasizes. His gaze searches mine for understanding. “This was way before Bridgette ever came into the picture.” His shoulders collapse under the weight of his words. “I should have left earlier. But you were still living at home, and maybe I was hoping your mother and I could work through the problems we were having.”

Everything about this moment feels raw and painful. As much as I appreciate his candor, it’s tough to hear. Tough to digest and accept. I glance away, unsure how to respond.

“I understand this has been a rough year for you and if I could go back and change that, I would. I hate that any of my decisions have caused you pain.” Dad gulps, his voice breaking with thick emotion. “I miss hanging out with you and hearing about everything that’s happening in your life. I’m missing out on so much right now. I want us to be close again.”

“I want that, too,” I whisper. Even though I’m still angry with him, I’ve missed Dad being a part of my life.

“I know my relationship with Bridgette is a sore spot for you. But I’m hopeful that given enough time, the three of us can get to a better place.”

Even though I can’t imagine that day ever coming, I keep those thoughts to myself. He’s here, and he’s trying to fix our relationship. I feel like I have to at least meet him halfway and be open to the idea. No matter how painful the notion is.

“I told Bridgette that we need to slow things down,” my father says, catching me by surprise.

My eyes fill with unshed tears that he’d actually do that. That Dad would put my feelings above his own. “And how did she take that?” Is it terrible that I hope she threw a hissy and told him to take a hike?

Probably, but I don’t care.

“She understood. She doesn’t want to get in the way of our relationship.” He smiles just a bit. “I think she was just a little overeager to meet you.” He shakes his head and admits, “I should have put a stop to it, and I didn’t. That’s on me.”

As much as it pains me to admit it, even privately to myself, maybe the woman isn’t all that bad. Although I reserve the right to withhold judgment for a later date.

“I want us to spend time together,” Dad says.

Even though it’s childish and I’m not proud of myself for it, I ask, “Alone?”

The corners of his lips hitch upward, and he sighs. “Yes, alone. Until you’re ready, I won’t mention Bridgette, okay?” He glances at our entwined hands. “But you need to understand that I love her, Nat. At some point, I’m going to marry her. If you’re not ready for that, we’ll hold off.” He gives me a hard look. “For the time being.”

I’d prefer he come back home and try to work things out with Mom, but I get it—that’s not going to happen.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Good.” He glances at his wristwatch. “Are you sure I can’t treat you to lunch? I have some time before I need to get back to the office.”

For the first time since running into Dad, I remember my concerns regarding Brody not showing up for class. I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. There’s something I need to take care of.” As I rise from the bench and scoop up my bag, I ask, “How did you know where to find me?”

Whitmore’s campus is large and sprawling. Trying to find someone here can be like playing a game of Where’s Waldo.

“Your friend Brody told me where I could find you.”

I freeze. “Brody?”

“Yeah, he came to see me at my office. I have to admit that I was surprised at first, but he helped me to understand how hard you’ve been hit by all this.” Dad clears his throat. “I’m embarrassed to say that I hadn’t realized just how affected you were by the divorce. I thought because you were older, it would be easier for you to deal with. But that’s not the case, is it?”

I shake my head. No matter how old you are, when your family splits up, it hurts. But that’s not what I’m focused on at the moment. My knees give out, and I fall back onto the bench. “Brody came to see you?” I can’t believe he would do that.

He nods. “Yeah, he did.”

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