Page 84 of From Our First

“As you can see, I’m okay.” I didn’t move my arm, it hurt too much to do so, but his gaze focused on it anyway, and then on the bruise on my face, and the one on my chin.

He shook his head. “You’re not okay, Myra.”

“I will be.”

“I didn’t know Roland was going to act like that,” my father said suddenly, and I looked at him and nodded.

“I believe you. I don’t think anybody realized that Roland was capable of what he did.” I tried not to hear his scream again, the last sound my cousin made before he died. But it was there, scratching at me, clawing at my spine, tearing up my body and my soul.

“I don’t know if it’s something we did or if he just cracked, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I looked up at my father, stunned. “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because your mother and I made selfish choices to try and get more. We always made selfish choices when it came to you. And I can’t figure out why. It seems to be what we do these days. And we hurt you in the process. Somehow, Roland took after us and came after you. I didn’t know that he’d spent all his money. I didn’t know any of that. I feel like I failed you.”

I couldn’t quite believe this, and I didn’t know if I trusted his words. Maybe he was trying to absolve his soul and explain his choices, but they weren’t mine.

“I don’t blame you for what Roland did, or for the decisions he made, but I don’t know how I can forgive you for everything else.”

He looked at me and nodded, swallowing hard. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t even know why I’m saying the things I am right now. Maybe Roland’s mental break changed something in me.”

While I wanted to believe that my father was genuinely remorseful for the snide comments he’d made, for breaking up Nate and me, and pushing me out of the family, I didn’t think he was truly remorseful. He would have to acknowledge them first.

I did believe that he felt bad that I had gotten hurt. Because I knew that even though my parents had lashed out and cut me emotionally my entire life, they had never once laid a hand on me in anger or hatred. It was something I truly believed my father never would have done.

“I’m tired. Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for letting me be here and not kicking me out right away.”

I paused. “I thought about it.”

My father nodded. “I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for everything you did. I don’t know if I want to. But I do know that you had nothing to do with Roland.”

My father nodded, his jaw tightening.

“And I don’t blame you for any of that. But I am tired. You should go.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll find a way.”

I held back a laugh as it would only cause me pain. “Mom’s not even here with you. A single conversation while I’m drugged up and in pain isn’t going to fix anything. I left the family long ago, Dad. And I don’t know if I ever want to come back, especially now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for what you did—for what you’ve always done to me. But I do know that I’ll never forget it. And it’s not about the money, it’s what you did to Nate and me. What you’ve done to me my entire life. You need to go. If I decide that I want to make another connection, I will contact you. Until then, you need to think long and hard about why you are here trying to apologize for something you don’t even truly understand yet. Someone doesn’t change in a blink of an eye. So, thank you for being here, but you need to go now.”

I was exhausted, out of energy, and I didn’t want to speak anymore. My father gave me a nod, met my gaze, and then walked out. As he did though, he froze, and it wasn’t until he moved out of the way that I realized why.

“Nate,” I whispered.

The love of my life looked at me, leaning against the wall in scrub pants and a hospital gown.

“I found you,” he whispered.

And I promptly burst into tears.

Chapter 22

Nate

Alarmed,I cursed and staggered my way to the chair next to her. I fell into it, winced at the pain in my side, and reached to grab her hand.

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