Page 87 of Indigo

I nod and brush away a stray tear, knowing if I don't, he will. “Yeah, I just… I was wondering if you could call my father.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah, I um, I messaged him and told him that Mum…” I stop, and swallow the lump in my throat, before trying to finish the sentence, but I can’t, so instead, I shake my head and hope he knows what I’m asking of him. He nods, letting me know he understands, and I continue. “Anyway, I told him the service would be next week, in case he wanted to come. He, um, he has a meeting or something, that’s what he said, anyway, and he tried to call me earlier. I’m not really up for…”

“Right. Of course. Yes. I’ll call him,” he says, reaching forward to place his hand on mine, but before he can, I pull it away and place it back in my lap.

His jaw clenches, and I watch as the muscle ticks, unsure if he’s angry with me, or my father.

I guess both.

I deserve it as much as he does.

He hangs his head and nods to himself as he takes my phone from the bedside table and slides it into the pocket of his dark blue sweats. “I’ll call him now,” he whispers, making his way back out of the room, leaving me alone in my self-made prison.

I miss him the moment he’s gone, but I know if I let him hold me, touch me, whisper words of comfort and love to me, that everything will hurt more than it does right now and I’m just not strong enough to take it.

I hope he knows I love him. That I miss him, but that I’m just not sure I’ll ever be the person he needs again, because withouther, I don’t recognise myself in the mirror.

-29-

PAXTON

THE COOL NIGHT AIRhits my face as I step out onto the front porch, and I take in a deep breath, trying to tone down my anger so I can get my point across without screaming at this asshole like a lunatic.

Honestly, it sounds like fun, but it’ll freak Indie out and that’s the last thing I want to do.

I hit call and raise the phone to my ear. Within three rings, he picks up.

“Hello?” His voice sounds groggy, as if he was asleep, and honestly, I don’t fucking care if he was.

I sit on the first step leading to the grass and drop my elbows to my knees, trying to figure out how to start this conversation.

“Hello?” he asks again, sounding more awake this time.

I clear my throat. “Yes. Sorry. This is Paxton Shepard.”

“Okay…”

He doesn’t even know who I am. That’s how involved this prick is in his daughter's life.

The fact doesn’t help my anger levels, but I try to push that down so I can get this conversation over with.

“I’m your daughter’s…” I pause, unsure what word to use when describing our relationship. Once I’ve decided, I finish my sentence. “I’m Indigo’s partner.”

“Right. Is she okay?” he asks.

“She’d be better if you were going to come down and support her during her mother’s funeral,” I spit back, his casual tone pissing me the fuck off.

He’s quiet for a moment before he whispers into the phone. “Did she ask you to call me? I thought she’d be fine with me not coming. Lana and I weren’t close and–”

“I don’t give a fuck how you felt about Lana, to be honest with you. I care about the fact that you are my girl’s father, and you can’t be fucking bothered coming down here to stand by her side during her own mother’s funeral. The mother who raised her, might I add, while you were god knows where. This is going to be one of the hardest days she has ever had to face, and I’m not going to let you make it worse when you’re more than capable of getting your ass on a plane.”

“Now, listen here–”

“No. You listen. I’m going to say this once, and slowly, so you fully understand the meaning behind it. You will book your flight as soon as you hang up this fucking phone. You will be here for Lana’s funeral. You will stand by your daughter’s side all day if she wants you to, and do anything she asks of you, because you fucking owe her that much. Am. I. Clear?”

“I can’t jus–”

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