Page 24 of Ink Deep Devotion

“It made me content because it made you and Mom happy, but deep down, it’s not a path I would have continued to walk on. I just don’t enjoy it anymore.” I admit, reaching up for my seatbelt, needing it to catch me in case this conversation goes south.“Dad, did…did you love mom?”

Pained eyes snap open and widen with insult,“What?” A bead of sweat slides down his temple.“Of course, I loved your mother. Why would you ask me that?” He growls accusingly.

“Because if you loved someone, you’d never force them to do something they hated. That’s not love.” That’s how I know no matter what Dash said, he did love me. Maybe it was for a fleeting moment during his game of amusement, but it’s still love. Dash’s true intention was for me to find the inner strength to walk away on my own.He built me up, made me think I could dream and hope, and gave me the inner strength to take what I wanted. I wish he didn’t tear me down in the end. Now I’m left trying to sort through the pieces so I can make myself whole again.

I will find those shredded pieces of paper that resemble my heart and tape myself back together.

Dad’s brows pull taut.“I see the point you’re trying to make. Anyone can paint, Mila. Not everyone can dance. You’re special, and I want the world to know that. Ballet shows people you are disciplined and elegant.”

“Sounds like you’re describing a show horse.” I bite my tongue, wishing I didn’t say that.“I know you want the best for me, Dad, but that changes as a person grows.”

It’s not just my father’s fault. I’ve bottled up my emotions, which led me to cut myself for relief. I allowed this wound to fester.

“I want you to be safe when I leave this earth. I’m trying to ensure that.”

“You can’t cherry-pick the future.”

“I can try,” Dad's smirk lasts as long as lightning crackles in the sky.“I know your life isn’t normal, but in our world, I’ve given you more freedom than others. Parts of your life are planned, and I don’t regret that. When you’re a parent, you will do everything in your power to protect your child.” He admits hastily.“There are things I can’t change, Mila. I wish I could, like allowing you to fall in love and then get married, but I have to die knowing you will be protected. But,” His eyes hold mine,“If you don’t want to dance,” he swallows as if he regrets every single letter that comes next.“I won’t force you. If you want to pursue art, you can.”

An echo from my pounding heart ricochets in my ears.“You’re letting me choose?”

“This.” He sternly lifts a brow.“You know other things I can not and will not change. Speaking of which, you’re getting older, and we need to talk about your future.”

My moment of glee slowly dwindles like a balloon. Up, up, up I float. I think I’m free—until pop! I’m reminded that gravity exists, and my father has all the control.

Is Dad only giving me this freedom because he’s about to take away something else?

“I didn’t ask, nor do I want to know what transpired between you and Dominic. But I know he looks at you as more than just a childhood friend, Mila.”

“We’re just—”

Dad holds up his hand.“I don’t need details, but,” he pauses, letting his words hit me hard.“If you care for the boy, you will stop whatever is happening. You don’t belong to him. I’ll have a word with his father.” Dad shakes his head.“Dominic should know better. Anyway, once he moves and you have some distance between you, it will fizzle out. He’s not the man for you.”

“Who is?” I blurt out bitterly.

For a moment, Dad’s eyes fill with pity. He reaches out and softly pats my knee.“Don’t worry about that now. Just know who I picked has enough power to keep you safe. I just want you safe.” He repeats.

“So you have picked someone,” I reply.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he mutters as if I can’t handle the truth.“I just want you to get better.”

A cage can keep you safe from the outside world, but what if the creature inside is a danger to themselves? What then, Dad?

???

“Let me help you,” Dom offers as he enters my bedroom. His smile widens as he comes to my side, bends down, and picks up my black velvet shoe.

An inhale sticks to my throat.“You’re not supposed to be here,” I whisper.

“You make it sound like you don’t miss me.” Dom bites as his fingers start to crush the velvet.

I swallow,“Dom…” He’s right. Physically, I don’t miss him. He’s my biggest regret.

I ruined a friendship and lied by giving him hope that there was something between us. I was heartbroken, and he helped numb that pain.

I used him like a pincushion; each time I wanted to do something stupid like hurt myself, I pressed my body into him instead. My body became the needle. I just kept pushing and shoving myself into Dom so it all would stop.

Does that make me a monster?

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