Page 48 of Our Hearts to Break

“What about the meetings?” Dad yells as we step into the hallway. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you.”

“River doesn’t need you there,” my mom says. “And neither do I. Just leave us alone, Ryan. And don’t even think about following us. You stay right there.”

My heart is racing from the adrenaline rush. I can hardly catch my breath as we walk down the hallway, our hands linked, nerves coursing through me.

“Wait up,” Nate says, rolling my suitcase behind us, his bag in the other hand. “Fuck those assholes. I’m going with you.”

“Momma,” I choke out as we descend the stairs.

She cocks her head at me.

“I love you.” I force a smile even though I feel like I’m dying on the inside. “Thank you.”

“I love you, too,” she says as we exit the house. “No one, not even your father, gets to hurt you.”

“Mrs. R.” Nate claps a hand on her back. “You rock. That was badass, by the way.”

She nods. “Just take care of my baby, okay?”

Nate hauls the bags into my trunk and nods. “Always.”

ChapterSeventeen

RIVER

After fleeing the house,I had no idea where to go, so I drove to the closest restaurant. It’s Thanksgiving. They have a limited menu. Our options are turkey, ham, and cornish hen with family-style side dishes.

“Smile, Rivie,” my moms says, sliding her hand across the table to touch me. “You love Thanksgiving. I know it’s not the same… but we will make it work.”

“Momma,” I whisper, fighting back tears. “I hate that you had to leave Dad for me. You should be home with him.”

“I’m with my baby. Where I’m supposed to be.”

By some miracle, she hasn’t shed a single tear. Meanwhile, I’m dying on the inside, torn between right and wrong, trying to decide if I should bring her home.

He called me thef-word. On repeat, I replay those final moments in my head, disgusted by his reaction.

He’s still my dad.

I love him.

So, why can’t he accept me?

I feel like shit, my skin itching as if dozens of ants are crawling over my arms and legs.

All of this is my fault.

“We’ll have one of everything,” my mom tells the server and hands her the menus. “And all of the sides. I’ll also have an iced tea. And…” She turns to me. “Do you want a soda or beer?”

“Soda, I’m driving.”

“A Coke,” she tells the woman.

The cops are always out in full force on holidays. I don’t need any more headaches today. My dad’s rejection was enough.

“Double scotch,” Nate says, flashing one of his boyish smiles. “And keep them coming. It’s been a long day.”

Her gaze lingers on Nate briefly, then she returns to me. I know she recognizes me because her eyes light up in acknowledgment. She’s blonde and thin and in her late twenties or early thirties.

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