Page 64 of Fighting Fate (Granton University 1)

It was fifteen minutes after eleven when she slipped into the front door, not brave enough to face the back entrance tonight. But when she stepped inside, the sight of her father sprawled on his stomach on the living room floor, face planted in the carpet, almost made her throw up.

She yelped out a horrified screamed and jumped backward, bumping into the wall of the foyer. But as soon as she yelped, the mass on the floor lurched. She screamed again, not expecting him to be alive.

Paul rolled onto his back with a curse. “What the hell are you yapping about?” He groaned and clutched his head as he struggled to sit up.

Her hand pressed solid against her thumping chest, Paige closed her eyes. “What’re you doing on the floor?” she demanded right back, her fear urging on her angry tone. “I thought you were dead.”

He scowled at her. “What? You thought I offed myself or something?”

Glaring right back, she hissed, “Well, isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past three years? Drinking yourself to death?”

He opened his mouth to snap something back but stopped in the last second. His gaze settled on the bright purple bruise on her cheek just under her left eye, and he cringed. With a whispered curse, he collapsed backward and rested his spine against the couch as he cradled his head in his hands.

Paige continued to huddle against the closed front door, not sure if she dared go near him.

“Paige, I…” His voice sounded broken.

She slid down the wall, wilting to the floor so she could sit too. No matter what had become of their relationship, he was still her father. She couldn’t ignore that.

“I know this is hard for you, Dad. I know you didn’t mean to hit me, and it was an accident. I know you’re sorry, and I know it’s impossible for you to say that out loud. But I forgive you anyway. And I love you, no matter what.”

For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond. He acted as if he hadn’t even heard her. Then his face screwed up into a tomato red and his lips pulled away from his teeth to show just how hard he was gritting them. Eyes squeezed closed, he began to sob.

To Paige, it sounded like his soul was tearing itself away from his body, desperate to escape such agony.

She watched him, dry eyed and perfectly still as he cried in great heaving moans.

“I think you need to change your lifestyle before you really do kill yourself,” she said when he’d quieted to silent, streaming tears. “I think you should sell this house and move away from Creighton County. I think you should get out and do things with other people. I think you should live again.”

He didn’t respond, but she knew her words had sunk in. Sensing he wouldn’t be able to accept any kind of physical comfort, Paige slowly pushed to her feet.

“Happy New Year,” she murmured before shuffling from the living room. When she lay in her bed that night, she didn’t fall asleep until well after midnight.

Nothing felt new or fresh about the new year though. And when she left three days later to return to Granton, nothing had changed between her and her father. But she knew the seed had been planted.

And fully watered with both their tears.

Chapter Twenty-Two

LOGAN PACED AS HE WAITED just outside the cancer clinic of the hospital where nearly a month ago Jamie, Paige, and he had had been assigned to meet for their initial visit to the children’s ward.

He hadn’t intended to be the first to arrive, but he’d been so anxious, and afraid, and eager to see Paige again, he’d been ready since about five minutes after his eyes had snapped open.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Since their run-in at the tree farm, his little crush on her had bubbled over into huge, undeniable obsession. It had been agony not being able to see her cross Granton’s main courtyard every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And once the spring semester started next week, he doubted he’d see her then either. New classes, different schedule. He’d be lucky if he caught a glimpse of her anywhere.

But they would still have the grief group together. And today.

Where was everyone, anyway? Had she forgotten? How could she forget when he’d been counting down the days, the very hour—okay, okay, the very minute—until he saw her again?

Glancing to the right, down the sidewalk and toward the visitors’ parking lot, he blew out a breath and peered through the vapor cloud he’d made. But he didn’t spot her.

When a prickle of awareness curled up his vertebrae, he tensed and turned slowly the other way to see her trotting up the sidewalk. She looked adorable bundled up in a black coat with a hot pink stocking cap on her head, knitted tails falling down over her ears, swaying to her harried rhythm. Her long, dark hair streamed over her shoulders, and her hands were stuffed into thick gloves.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She panted as she approached, her nose red from the cold. “I forgot to set my alarm and slept in.”

Logan began to smile. He’d actually woken up a good hour before his alarm had gone off, too eager to sleep. “Don’t worry. Jamie hasn’t gotten—”

The words strangled in his throat when he saw her bruise. A greenish violet shade, it had to be a few weeks old. Since she hadn’t had it on Christmas Eve, he had to guess she’d gotten it not long after he’d seen her that night.

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