Page 214 of Did They Break You

His truck is parked under the carport and I pull in behind him.

I told Mom last night I was done with Remi. Then I hung up on her.

Thinking of how Remi looked at me, utterly cold, of Storm holding her back… I scrub my hand over my neck and get out of the truck, slamming the door closed behind me, spinning the loop of my keys over my finger as I head to the little porch, the screen door barely hanging onto the hinges.

But it’s all Dad can afford at the moment. In West Virginia, he’d have help from my uncle. Mom agreed him and Tristan could go. I think she just doesn’t give a fuck anymore, not that she ever really did.

It’s not a legally binding agreement, and she could change her mind at any time, but it’s a start. So is their separation over the last few months. One step closer to divorce.

I let myself into the house, closing and locking the door at my back. It smells like coffee and bacon in here, and even though it’s early, I’m not entirely surprised to see my dad at the stove in the kitchen, straight down the hall from the doorway.

I glance to the right, past the living room, and see Tristan’s bedroom door is closed.

“Morning,” Dad greets without looking at me. I messaged him this morning to tell him I’d be over.

“Morning.” I walk through the hallway, over the rickety wooden floors. I sink down onto one of the chairs at the square table set in the corner of the kitchen, dropping my keys, my head in my hands as I close my eyes. Exhaustion consumes me, and being here, safe, comfortable around Dad, I just let myself breathe.

I listen to the coffee machine starting up again, hear the pop and crack of the bacon, but Dad leaves me alone.

I think about Remi. About her hurting herself. The same way I drug my own nails down my arm last night. I hope she didn’t do the same.

A lump forms in my throat. I want to call her. She didn’t call me after she left, and I should’ve followed her. Should’ve made sure she got back okay.

But she’s an adult. She’s strong. And she’ll have a far better life away from me. Still, I think about her stepdad. The things he did to her. Me leaving her to only find comfort withhim.

Fuck.

I must say it out loud, because Dad speaks. “Something on your mind?”

I pick my head up, leaning back in the chair, opening my eyes, hands shoved in the pockets of my sweats as I watch Dad fork the bacon onto a plate lined with a paper towel.

“When are y’all leaving?”

Dad glances over at me, his own eyes bleary and red, a mug of coffee in one hand while he tends to the bacon with the other. He’s in his plaid pajama bottoms and a white shirt. “Next week,” he says, looking back down at the stove. He sets down the fork, takes a sip of his coffee. “You staying here?”

I glance down at the table. No use in transferring again. It’s not like I’ve been much help to Tristan here, and besides that, Mom was his poison. Away from her, he’ll be golden. He’ll heal.Being surrounded by people that love him—Dad, my uncle and his wife—he’ll thrive.

He doesn’t need me.

But then again, staying here, being so close to Remi but unable to touch her, I don’t know if I can do that, either.

“I want to quit school,” I tell Dad quietly.

For a moment, he doesn’t say a word. There’s just the sound of popping bacon, the coffee machine running its course.

I hear him set down his mug. Flip off the stove.

I keep staring at a scuff on the table.

“What would you do?” he finally asks me.

I shrug. “Work with Uncle Clave.”

Another pause. Then, “All right.”

I smile at the table, not bringing my gaze up to his. “Just all right?” I ask him. “Don’t wanna lecture me about all the future I’m wasting?”

“I’m not your mother.”

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