Page 89 of Lovesick
“How? I signed the stupid contract.”
Dad waved that off. “Not that. With Mark.”
“That’s how I make it right.”
Dad definitely glowered then. “Don’t be an idiot, JJ. Mark’s hurt that you didn’t tell him what you were doing. He tells you everything.”
“He doesn’t,” I replied softly.
And that’s when it hit me like a punch to the sternum.
Mark hadn’t told me about the escalating tensions between Mom and Dad. Or about the impending divorce. I’d been totally blindsided by my parents and siblings. This bakery job? Maybe this had been some convoluted attempt to swing back at him.
The thought robbed my breath.
“Damn,” I muttered. Was I that vindictive? I didn’t like that at all.
“What hasn’t he told you?” Dad asked.
For five seconds, I sized Dad up.
“The divorce.”
A silent question came in the form of grooves between his eyebrows. I looked away, guilty over my anger. My teeth ground into each other until my jaw started to cramp. I forced myself to take a deep breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me how much you were struggling?” I asked. “Why did everyone leave me out? Megan and Mark knew everything. I had no idea.”
His expression darkened like a thunderstorm. “It wasn’t on purpose, JJ. I was just keeping my head above water. Plus, I didn’t tell them. Your mom did.”
“It made me feel like I didn’t matter as much. Like you’d forgotten me.”
“I’d never forget you, JJ. Your mom turned to Mark quite a bit at the time. She must have sworn him to silence, or something.”
“And you turned to no one?”
“That seemed better than relying too much on the three of you,” he countered. “JJ, there’s no easy answer to your question. It was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. To lean on my son as a support? That wouldn’t have been fair. You had to live through this too. The pressure of helping me would have made it worse.”
Certainly an angle I hadn’t thought of. I wondered if Mark resented Mom’s reliance on him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to know about their issues.
“I’m sorry, JJ,” Dad said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more open with you. I’ve been an ass through the divorce, and even after. Maybe before, too, I don’t know. My world’s all flipped around.”
I blinked, stunned. Well ... that was something. Dad was rarely wrong in his own eyes. Not sure what to say, I let that sit there. Dad released a long sigh, then shook his head.
“Have you ever failed at something?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Failed at something that impacted you and everyone you care about?”
“Probably.”
“Then maybe you know what it feels like to have your world crumble around you. To see everything you worked for your entire life just ... fall apart the moment you thought you’d have it.” He shook his head. “I thought if I just kept working, if I focused on what Icoulddo versus what felt ... impossible ... then I’d retire, have time to do everything I wanted, and everything would be okay.”
A thousand scenarios ran through my mind. Things he could be talking about. But they all vanished. Because here sat a man I’d never met: a humbled version of my father. I wiggled in my seat to find a more comfortable position. Dad’s acknowledgment sobered the atmosphere. I couldn’t help but admire him for it.
“What did you think felt impossible?” I asked quietly.
“Making her happy.”
