He didn't say anything further. He shifted on the bed, turning away fromme.
Just like he alwaysdid.
My temper got the better of me. Isnapped.
"No," I said firmly. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to sink into silence and pretend I'm not here. Tell me what youmeant."
Dad took in a deep, heavy breath. I didn't think he was going to answer. Finally, he turned back to us. His eyes werepained.
"After your mother died…" He spoke slowly, each word painstakingly chosen. "I fell apart," he admitted. "And then I lost the job. The one thing that kept me distracted. And Faith…" He flicked his eyes from mine to Hope's and back again. "You tried so hard to take care of me." He swallowed hard. "I tried, too. I would try so hard to get back to rights. Get proper sleep, eat proper food, get up and try to live a normal life." His eyes glistened. "But then something would remind me of her and I'd sink back down." Despite everything, seeing that pained gaze make my heart ache. "But I knew I could always count onyou."
Confusion and doubt and pain fought a battle for dominance in mychest.
"If you felt that way, why did you always avoid me?" I asked, breath hitching. "Why did you refuse to talk to me? Why didyou—"
My throat closed shut. Dad cast his eyes down, keeping them trained on thebed.
"I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't elaborate. Didn't explainwhy.
I forced myself to speak. "Why did you treat me likethat?"
His mouth trembled. "I was ashamed," he said quietly. "Ashamed you had to see me like that. Ashamed I needed to be looked after likethat."
Seeing those trembling lips, the closest to an emotion I'd seen on Dad in a long time, set something loose inside me. The tears pricking the back of my eyes fell down mycheeks.
"I never imagined you felt that way," I said. "I thought you hated me. Hatedus."
"I could never hate you," he said. His voice was now as pained as his eyes. "You're my girls. My Hope and Faith. You're the only reason I didn't give upcompletely."
I sniffed back the tears. "I want you to get better. I want to help you get better. Just tell me what todo."
He let out a shaky breath. "You shouldn't have to do anything. Hope is right. You've been taking care of me long enough. It's time I took responsibility formyself."
"Does that mean…?" I trailedoff.
"It means you're right," he said reluctantly. "I should see someone." His lips turned up, just the slightest bit. "It's about time I stopped relying on you somuch."
Fresh tears sprang to myeyes.
"We'll make the arrangements," Hope said, taking over now that I was in tears. "We'll hire a personal support worker to look after you while you're in your casts, and we'll make an appointment with atherapist."
He nodded, but this time it wasn'tsilently.
"I'm so sorry, girls." The words were louder, stronger now. "I know I wasn't there for you the way I should have been." He gestured to his legs. "When I had my fall, the only thing I could think of was Faith coming home to see me lying there and—" He pressed his lips together and exhaled a heavy breath through hisnose.
"Do you think…" I started to ask, hesitating. "Damon and Ian are waiting in the hallway. Do you want to meetthem?"
He cringed back on himself, tipping his chin to his chest, shame-faced. "Not… not yet." He rubbed his chin, pads of his fingertips scratching at the stubble. "Not like this, while I'm inhere."
Hope nodded inunderstanding.
"When you're ready, then," shesaid.
"When I'm ready, I'd love to have dinner with all four of you," hepromised.
The smile that crossed his lips sent relief soaring throughme.
A nurse poked his head in. "I'm sorry, but we need to take your father to do some more tests. You can continue your visitlater."