Page 6 of A Forever Love

“Dad!” There’s no way my tears can be stopped now. The ball of emotions that sprouted when I stepped into this house finally explodes. “You didn’t do anything to me, okay?”

He places our cups onto the table as I start to hiccup, then crushes me to his chest. A shiver passes through him, harmonizing with my own.

All we are is past feelings for several beats. I’m his little girl, missing my mom, and he’s the dad, hoping he was enough back then.

I finally pull back and manage a smile despite the tears. “Once Clementine came into our lives, everything was perfect.”

“But we spent a decade trapped in a rut because of me.” His eyes are bloodshot.

I know there’s nothing I can say right now that will erase his guilt. That’s the thing about buried feelings—guilt, love, fear. They’re like haunting ghosts, lingering in the shadows of our hearts, refusing to fade away no matter how hard we try to forget.

I wipe my face and ask him for my cocoa. He complies after a beat, and I take that as a chance to change the topic.

“I graduated at the top of my class, Dad. I was hoping you’d welcome me with some huge gift. But here we are, discussing a past that doesn’t even matter anymore. Are you trying to cover up because you forgot to buy me something?”

Indecision clouds his face, as if he still wants to continue with our earlier discussion. So, I press further.

“You forgot, right?”

“Give me a sec.” Dad gets up and walks out of my room.

I get a minute to compose myself. Those ten years while my dad was living like a zombie, hoping his best friend and childhood love would wake up from the grave, made me who I am today. I was taken to a string of therapists for a decade while everyone told me I should love myself. But some things are easier said than done.

Loving yourself when no one loves you back—that’s a tough act.

Loving others when you realize whoever you love is taken away from you, physically or otherwise—that’s scary.

Finally finding a person you can love without losing and him not loving you back…that’s worse than anything in life.

So yeah, I’m scared of this feeling. I’m happy that the people around me have found love, but it’s not for me. Neither for giving nor for taking.

2

MERIDA

Carter: Heard you’re back in town. Meet me in the garden? I’ve got something for you.

I glance at the Cartier watch Dad gave me a few hours ago; it’s only ten. Carter and I have spent countless evenings in the garden, yet the thought of seeing him after four years makes my chest pound hard.

I’m over him. I’m over him.

I repeat the mantra, trying to quell my nerves.

Carter: I’m already here, Mere. Don’t keep me waiting for too long.

I gather my red curls into a high bun and secure them with a scrunchie. Avoiding my own gaze in the mirror, I quickly put on the gold hoops Clem gifted me tonight and apply light makeup—a skill I picked up from my college roommate. After swapping my pajamas for a silk top and jeans, I slip into red canvas shoes.

As I step out of my room, the motion sensors flick on the dim lighting. The twins’ room and Dad and Clem’s bedroom doors are closed. I tread lightly, hoping not to disturb anyone. However, my caution becomes unnecessary when I descend the stairs and discover my dad seated at the dining table, facing his laptop and multiple phones.

He swivels around in his chair as I approach. “Mere? Everything alright?” His gaze assesses me from head to toe, and the crease on his forehead deepens, making me uneasy.

“Yeah. Carter texted. Asked me to meet him at the garden.” I wave my phone in the air as proof.

Why does this feel so awkward suddenly?

Until a few years back, Carter used to spend so many evenings with me, or as Dad would say, babysitting me.

“You changed?” Dad continues to scrutinize me, as though I’m not his own daughter but a stranger in his house. “And you’re wearing makeup…at ten p.m.” His gaze darts to the wall clock, then back at my face.

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