Page 90 of Friend Me

“Dad!” I didnotwant to hear that.

He chuckled. “The last thing on my mind was getting serious with a girl. And then I met Maggie. She was beautiful and smart and funny.”

I sighed. “And you fell in love.”

“No.” He ducked his head. “I knocked her up.”

“Oh my God! Dad!”

“But I did what was right by her, and we got married.”

“And then you fell in love.”

He hummed. “We were partners working toward a common goal. Raising you. And we were so happy when you were born.” He gripped my hand again. “We both loved you very much.”

I rubbed my pendant. “Didn’t you love each other?”

“We did, in a way. Not the way they talk about in the storybooks.” He broke off a piece of the puzzle from the other corner, the Beast’s furry paw. “I wanted to show you, maybe even show Maggie and myself, that it was possible. True love. So I read you love stories.”

“What about that magical touch? Handing her the towel by the pool?”

“I wished it’d happened that way. I always wished we’d fallen in love like that.”

Another piece of my heart snapped off.

“Do you regret it? Do you regret…me?”

He looked up, his blue eyes clear for once. “No, not ever. I only wish you’d had more time with her.”

So do I.I broke up the rest of the puzzle and scattered the pieces into the box. When I looked up again, Dad’s eyes were cloudy.

“Where was I going with that story?”

“Doesn’t matter, Dad.” I knew where he was going with it. Sam, who wasn’t even interested in love, had given the best relationship advice. As much as I loved reading about insta-lust, love based on friendship was the best kind of love.

I stood and set the puzzle box on the pink shelves by the back door so he and Sylvia could build it again tomorrow. The telescope case caught my eye.

“Want to do some stargazing later tonight? It’s clear out.” Looking at the stars would improve both our moods.

“Whatever you like, Maggie.”

I sighed and checked the time. Too early to start dinner. My pencil skirt dug into my stomach, and my shoulders ached under my bra straps. My sweatpants called to me from upstairs.

“How about some SportsCenter? I bet they’ll have a preview of the football game.”

“Okay.”

I led him to his chair and flipped on the television. He leaned back, and his eyes went glassy. Maybe he’d drift off to sleep.

I snagged my shoes, jogged upstairs, and took my time changing into comfortable clothes, remembering the desperate kiss with Tyler and then his unyielding posture after. You’d think after all the romance novels I’d read, after all the romantic comedies I’d devoured, I’d know how to grovel. But I’d fucked it up. Had I ruined our friendship, and the possibility for more, permanently?

Even my yoga pants and worn sweatshirt scratched and irritated my skin. I deserved the discomfort after what I’d done to Tyler. Maybe if I texted him, he’d come over and give me a grovel mulligan?

Just as I turned to go downstairs and start dinner, a clatter rose from outside the window. Had Tyler read my mind and come over with his video game system? My heart pounding, I ran to kneel on the window seat.

My heart stopped.

Dad was splayed on the porch steps below. The telescope case lay at the bottom of the stairs. One leg stretched out at an unnatural angle. His head rested on the top step. The sunset spread a rosy glow over his face, but his eyes were closed. His body was still.

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