Page 71 of All In
I rest my hand on his forearm, a nervous smile replacing the happy one I just had. “I will. But, Dad, can I talk to you first?”
He can see the tension and hear the seriousness in my voice because his brows furrow immediately. “Sure, pumpkin. What’s wrong? You’re not sick, are you?”
I lead him to the couch, and we both sit as I take his hands in mine. My dad’s large and protective hands. The ones that used to hold me when I was a baby and when I crossed a parking lot as a kid. I can feel their warmth, and in this moment, I know he would protect me. “No, Dad, I’m not sick.” He lets out a long breath in relief. “Well, no. Let me rephrase that. I am sick. Sick and tired of my marriage to Nate.”
He shakes his head because I’m sure this has thrown him for a loop. We have painted a picture of the perfect and loving family so convincing that my parents believed the lie. “What? Maria, what is going on?”
For the next ten minutes, the current state of my marriage vomits out of my mouth.
I tell him about Sam and the shed the night before the wedding.
I confess to him how unhappy I have been since day one.
I tell him how I felt pressured to marry Nate to protect him and his job.
I tell him how Nate can’t keep it in his pants (his signature nostril flare came out for that one).
I tell him everything.
As soon as I finish, he is blinking rapidly and having a staring contest with the wall. “Dad, please say something.”
His breathing is getting heavier, and I see a single tear travel down his cheek. “Maria, I am so sorry.” He looks at the ceiling, trying to compose himself. “I have failed you as a father. First with that idiot Chad. You left Sam for him to help your mother and me financially, and I have never forgiven myself for that.” He turns to face me. Now I’m the one crying.
“I know you are, Dad. And I let that go a long time ago.”
“And I don’t deserve your forgiveness. So, there is no way I am going to be the reason for your unhappiness now. Honey, why didn’t you tell me that Sam came to win you back the day before your wedding?” he asks, agony etched on his face.
“Because I was young and stupid. I thought I was doing the right thing. You were getting back on your feet, and I didn’t want to be the reason to mess that up.”
“Maria, you wouldn’t have—”
I cut him off because I need to get this off of my chest. “Plus, you and Mom did so much, paid for so much, with the wedding. When Sam came to me, all I could think about was disappointing you guys. And I was worried about how Nate would take it or what kind of retaliation he would have brought? I should have put myself first. It was confusing and scary, quite honestly.”
He nods in agreement. “Well, the days of you putting everyone else above yourself are over. Do you hear me? No more.” He shifts his weight on the couch. He’s fully facing me now. “What does my Maria want?”
I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of my frustrations escaping with each breath. “A lot of things. I want to be able to wake up each morning and not worry if I cleaned the kitchen the way my husband demands. I want to live without the constant concern of who my husband is sleeping with or what diseases he could bring back to me from his antics. And I want love. I want a love like the one I had with Sam.” A pain shoots straight to my heart at this last admission.
“Well, that sounds pretty attainable, if you ask me.” Dad’s lips tuck up into a small smile.
“But you’ll lose your job, Dad.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “So.”
“But, what about—” He puts his hands up inprotest.
“No buts.” He adjusts himself on the couch, his posture straighter, his chin up. “I’ll quit. Or better yet, I’ll retire. I need to spend more time with my family, anyway.”
“So, you’ll retire? Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He grins at me and pinches my chin the way he would when I was a kid. “Anything for you. Now, let’s go get those grandbabies of mine.” He stands with purpose, slapping his hands on his legs. Before he heads to the kids’ rec room, he peers down at me. “Oh, and do me a favor, will you?”
“Anything, Daddy.”
“Beat Nate home, okay.”
He winks at me as he walks away, and I know full well his meaning.
Chapter twenty-eight
