Page 86 of Bitter Arrangement

She leaps up. “Sorry. I was just about to.” She hurries over and takes the bag from him. He frowns at her, looking hard and unhappy as she unpacks it.

She doesn’t even live here anymore, and she’s still doing his chores.

“What are you two doing here?” he asks, glancing at me. “Hope things are going well, Alexan.”

“Things are fine,” I say.

“We were just looking for Brenden,” Riley adds quickly. “Do you know where he is?”

“That boy comes and goes as he pleases.” Her father stomps over to the refrigerator and takes out a beer. He cracks it and sucks some down. “I hear he’s been spending more and more time over at that new pub they opened, what’s it called?—”

“The Hen and The Snare.” Riley looks at me and nods a little. “We should check it out.”

“Not even going to visit with your old man?” Her father looks at her with mild disgust. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You did your duty and got married, and now you’ve forgotten all about the people that raised you.”

“That isn’t true,” she says.

“It’s not? And how many times have you visited? But no, that’s alright, you have a husband and responsibilities in his house now. Just thought you wouldn’t abandon your father so quickly.”

She stares at him, clearly taken aback. Anger rushes through me. I turn to him, ready to put the bastard in his place, but Riley holds a hand out to stop me.

“I’ll do better,” she says, wilting slightly.

What the fuck? She’ll dobetter? She doesn’t owe this man a goddamn thing, not if he’s going to talk to her like that.

But her shoulders slump, and it’s like she’s sucking into herself before my eyes. Normally, she’s strong and outgoing, but what the fuck is this?

“Yeah, that’s what you always say.” He finishes off the beer and tosses the can in the sink. “Never happens, though. Good to see you, Alexan. Good luck with that one.” He gives Riley one more shake of his head before he walks off.

When he’s gone, I turn to her, but she just grabs my hand and pulls me away. I follow, not sure what the fuck that was, but she holds on tight enough that I can’t get away without yanking hard. It’s not until we’re in the car again that she finally turns to me.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Your dad treats you like shit.”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

“Riley—”

“Stop, okay? I know it’s pathetic. I know I turn into this little weakling whenever he’s around, alright? It doesn’t feel good, but I can’t help it. He just makes me feel so fucking small.”

I reach out and put a hand on her knee. She wipes her face, and all I want to do is go back in that house so I can break her father’s fucking face into tiny little pieces.

Nobody makes my wife feel small. Not even her own fucking father.

Especially not her father.

“I’ll kill him for you,” I offer gently.

She smiles like I’m kidding. “Thanks, but that’d only make me feel guilty.”

“Then stand up to him. Don’t take that shit.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Try anyway. I’m here for you, baby. I’m on your side. Don’t let that man push you around.”

She leans back and stares at the roof of the car. “I know you’re right, okay? All my life I keep telling myself that I won’t take his crap anymore. But it never happens. If anyone else talked to me the way my father talks to me, I’d kick them in the freaking throat. But with him, it’s like I just take it and take it and keep letting him break me down. I hate myself for it. But I can’t change.”

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