Page 133 of Finding Fate

Love,

Daddy

P.S. Don’t forget to dance.

By the time Isabel was finished reading the letter, tears were flooding her eyes. She was so sick of crying. She’d cried more in the past six months than she had since her father had gone. But she couldn’t help it.

The irony her father’s letter contained was sickening and infuriating. The numbness she had become dependent on evaded her entirely now. It should have been the best thing she had ever read in her life, and a month ago, it would have been. But now, it felt as though what her father had written out of love was being thrown into her face like a cruel joke.

This letter was meant to make everything okay, but it didn’t help one single, damn thing that had gone wrong. Her world was in shreds, and it felt completely irreparable.

Restlessness overcame her then, and she couldn’t shake it away. She didn’t want to be here anymore. Not on this bed, not in this room, not in this house, not anywhere near here.

She jumped up from the bed, ignoring the rush of pain it sent through her head, and grabbed the first right-footed shoe she could find, shoving it on her foot in haste.

She reached for her keys, and the bulky boot smacked into the intricately carved dresser, leaving a scratch in the varnish. Isabel cursed as the pain shot up through her leg.

She glared at the dresser. Its very presence at that moment was infuriating. Why had she held the stupid thing so dear to her heart? It was just a vain representation of her father. Giving it such significance before was ridiculous. Inanimate objects didn’t compare to the real thing.

This painful realization sent a fury through her so immense she didn’t recognize herself. She kicked the dresser hard, again and again, relishing the agony in her leg. When she was satisfied there were enough damages to the base of the furniture, she grabbed onto the drawers one by one, yanking them from their place as her casted arm screamed in protest. Ignoring it, she flung them hard into the dull yellow she had stared at for days, creating several gaping holes in the wall.

She expected this exercise to extinguish the raging energy that now coursed through her veins, but it only fueled it more. She tried to calm herself and rubbed a hand across her burning, still bruised ribs as she worked to steady her breathing.

Something caught on the smooth silk of her turquoise, spaghetti strap pajama top. Looking down, she saw the ring Tucker had placed on her finger just barely under a month ago. She scowled and yanked the diamond-covered band from her finger, tossing it into the pile of dresser drawers on the floor. That inanimate object was even worse.

Tucker didn’t want her now. It didn’t matter that he’d once said nothing would ever change him wanting to be with her because the fact was that his retraction was completely, excruciatingly, and devastatingly deserved.

All infuriating objects now cast aside, the restlessness from before resurfaced. Isabel grabbed her keys, bolted from the room, and ran dangerously fast down the stairs as she fled for her decrepit truck, not even slowing to shut the front door behind her.

The cab shook violently beneath her as it groaned to life. She threw it into reverse, backing quickly from the driveway, and sped off down the street as fast as the ancient, blue Ford would allow, not caring where she was going, as long as it was away.

* * *

“It’s almost time!” Victoria shouted from the living room where she and Tabitha had been watching the televised countdown on the TV. “Get ready!”

Annie watched as Jenna hurried over to Chuck, and Stefano pulled Helen close. She was about to look around for Jet when she felt a hand close around her wrist and pull her swiftly away to the dim, deserted hall.

Jet spun her around. She leaned back against the wall, his body leaning in over hers. His eyes danced with excitement, and she couldn’t help but grin back.

They could hear the music that played in the background and their siblings and parents start the count down. “Ten. Nine.” They just stared at each other, ocean blue eyes with bright green, both full of love and anticipation.

“One! Happy New Year!” all of the children finished while their parents kissed, Tyler squirming when Bridgette snuck up for a kiss on the cheek. Jet closed the gap, taking Annie’s lips with his. She returned his kiss generously, not holding back in the semi-private setting, and pouted when he broke away.

“Happy New Year,” he told her with laughter in his eyes.

“Happy New Year,” she replied, allowing a smile to play at her lips.

“Why the disappointment?”

“It was a good kiss. You stopped.”

“I had to. If I didn’t, I couldn’t say happy birthday.”

She grinned, and he kissed her again, this time not breaking it until they heard his father clear his throat from a few feet away.

Jet stepped back and looked at his dad. “Sorry,” but he didn’t really mean it. There was no way in hell he’d regret that kiss.

Stefano gave the two a look that said he understood. “Not quite so heavy in front of the younger kids, okay?”

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