Page 23 of Play Pretend

They never came to visitme. I always went tothem.

It was safer that way. It kept him at a distance, making sure his words, his loud disappointment, couldn’t squash the bit of happiness I’d found here. Cedar Ridge hadn’t been tainted by him, and I never wanted it to be.

But it seemed like I didn’t have a choice.

I searched for words to cling to, for something to say, some way to tell him absolutely not. That he was not welcome here—none of them were. But the only thing that came out was a raspy, “What?”

“We’ve never visited you before.” A brief pause. His throat cleared. Then the bomb dropped. “Plus, you and Roland have been together for…what? A year now? It’s about time I met him, don’t you think?”

He laughed again, but it was distant to the panic soaring through my veins. I couldn’t hear anything. Couldn’t see or feelanything. I couldn’t even correct him—how many times did I have to tell him it was Ronan?

My senses fought with each other. I was too hot and too cold all at once. How was that even possible? It shouldn’t have been possible, yet it was. Because I was feeling it. I felt the needles spreading over my skin, pricking me like blades of ice. I felt the air leave my lungs in quick gasps, and I felt the tremors racking my limbs, uncontrollable and incessant.

Panic clawed at my insides as it worked its way up my throat. I bent in half, bracing my free hand on my knee as I tried to catch my breath.

“We want you to give us a tour of Cedar Ridge,” he continued, oblivious to what I was going through.

His words finally registered, and I swore my vision turned black. “We?” I croaked.

“Me, Lydia, and Vanessa. It was going to just be me and Lydia, but Vanessa wanted to see Maine.”

Of course she did.

My back slammed against the wall, and slowly, I sank to the ground. The cold, damp earth seeped into the bottom of my jeans, soaking through to my skin. A chill overtook my entire body, and my teeth chattered together.

This wasn’t happening.

It couldn’t be happening.

“Anyway,” he sighed. “I just wanted to tell you what our plans were. We’ll see you in three weeks.”

“Three weeks,” I repeated, my gaze fixed on the massive tree in front of me.

Three. Weeks.

“Alrighty. I’ll let you get back to it. Call me some time,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t make me be the one to always initiate. The phone works both ways, you know.”

My mouth was too dry to speak, to even acknowledge that statement. My hands trembled, and a fine, cold sweat broke out along my forehead, down my back. It coated my skin like grease—I needed to wash it off. Wash off the lies, wash off this news. I needed to get away. To breathe. I needed…

To get out.

Everything was closing in around me. It was all crumbling down, like I knew it would one day, but I’d been too arrogant to think the day would ever actually come. Maybe arrogant wasn’t the right word, but in that moment, it was all I could focus on.

Arrogance.

Arrogance at the fact he hadn’t evenaskedwhat I was doing for my birthday, if I had any plans. He didn’t care, because outside his life nothing else existed. I’d, of course, drop everything for him. For them.

Arrogance at the fact he invited himself to my home. To my life. To my town. It wasn’t a question; it wasn’t even a conversation. I was bulldozed, blindsided. I didn’t have a voice. I didn’t have a say.

I didn’t have a choice.

Just like always.

Arrogance at the fact that I’d stupidly believed this lie would never catch up with me.

“Bye, Dad,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

“Bye, Willow.”

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