Page 6 of Kissed and Missed

I take a long swig from my water bottle, keeping my eyes on my phone as if this is the moment Honor is going to break her silence, and I won’t have to consider moving on anymore.

God forbid.

Just as I go to set it aside, however, a name pops up on the screen that has my heart sinking for an entirely different reason. Pushing one hand through my hair, I force myself to accept it, setting the phone on the counter as my daughter’s voice, high with hysterical indignation, fills the room.

“Dad,” Riley cries. “Did you seriously turn off my credit card?”

Jesus, not today. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, but I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t still sting. Now, while nursing a bruised heart and a healthy dose of regret, my daughter is doing the emotional equivalent of kicking me while I’m down.

“I didn’t turn off your credit card, Riley. I put a limit on it,” I tell her, endeavoring not to allow my feelings for Honor to bleed into this interaction. “It’s only a week into the month, are you telling me you’ve already maxed it out?” How the hell did she spend thirty thousand dollars in seven days? Especially when she knows full well I won’t pay the bill early.

A frustrated noise comes in response. “Are you seriously giving me grief for this right now? You know I’ve been going through some stuff. Could you please just, like,pay it? This isridiculous. You could probably drop thirty grand on the street and you wouldn’t even notice.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, hurt bleeding into resentment despite my best efforts. “Riley, this is the first time you’ve contacted me in over a month, and it’s only because you’ve maxed out your credit card.”

“Do you blame me? Dad, you were such a dick about the whole thing with Honor.” My heart surges into my throat at the sound of her name. “We weren’t even that serious, just becauseshethought we were?—”

“Enough.” My ears are ringing, and for the first time, it’s really hitting me that I don’t know this person. My only kid is a stranger to me, and continuing to finance her extravagant lifestyle isn’t going to fix the problem. “If the credit card is such an issue, I’ll just cancel it.”

Dead silence for a long moment, then, “Dad.” There’s a note of poorly concealed panic in Riley’s voice. “I’m sorry, okay? I promise I’ll do better next month. I’ve just been going through?—”

“Some stuff. Yeah,” I repeat, staring out at the sunny beach beyond the house, and the place where I did something I once thought selfish. “Thisstuffhas been going on for years, Riley. I’ve tried to be there for you, to support you, but all you ever want from me is more money. How do you think that feels?”

A hysterical little shriek follows this. “So, what?” she demands, “you’re just going to cut me off or something?”

It’s surprising how easily the answer to this question comes. I’m not a man who makes impulsive decisions, and when I do, they’re often second-guessed. This, however… Christ. For the first time, I’m positive I’m doing the best thing for Riley, even if she hates me more for it. “Yes,” I tell her, my voice strained. “You’re twenty-four, and I think it’s time you stand on your own two feet. If you need me, I’ll always be there. Always. I know it’snever been simple between us, but you’re my kid, and I love you. That isn’t going to change.”

Riley sobs. “You’re being so controlling! I’m sorry, okay? I swear I’ll do better with the card and call you back and everything!”

“And I want a relationship with my daughter that isn’t dependent on her credit card limit,” I reply, my chest hollow, and my mouth dry. “I’m a human being, Riley, not your personal bank account. Human beings also have limits, and I just hit mine.”

4

JULIAN

SIX WEEKS AGO

“For fuck’s sake, Riley.”

The hand gripping my phone falls back to my side as the fifth consecutive call to my daughter goes to voicemail. I’ve tolerated a lot from her, especially over the last few years, but this? Damn it, I thought we were making progress. I thought her agreeing to come to Christmas and bringing the girlfriend I’d never met, was an olive branch.

Instead, what I got is confirmation my kid treats everyone as poorly as she treats me.

My chest tightens as I remember the awkward, halting way Honor explained what had just happened, or the way her hand shook when she showed me the texts. I’d insisted she go upstairs to the guest room and clean up and rest, at which time I attempted the first of the unanswered calls to my daughter. Now, after I learned Riley didn’t get on her second flight, my bet is she’s staying in Hawaii with her mother to avoid the fallout.

Until today, the only information I had on Honor Vogel was that she was dating Riley, that she’s from New England, andworks for a nonprofit. In my mind, and based on my recollection of my daughter’s high school girlfriends, I expected another socialite or party girl.

Honor seemedgentle. Not a word I would typically use, or a characteristic I encounter often in the world I built for myself, one filled with ambition and greed.

This woman is different, though. Even as she recounted the events that transpired before she arrived at my door, she never seemed outwardly angry or spoke a single harsh word about my daughter—though she certainly had every right to. Instead, she quietly thanked me for having her, apologized for any disruption to my holiday plans, and assured me she would be out of my hair as soon as she could book a flight home.

She was also beautiful.

I hate that I noticed, but the moment I laid eyes on her, there was no avoiding it. What the hell is wrong with me? Raking my hand through my hair, I sink down on the end of the nearest lounge chair, staring blindly into the gently rippling pool.

“Mr. Ballard?”

My heart leaps and I whip around to face the young blonde woman edging around the pool toward me, her hands clasped in front of her.

---