Page 128 of Tarnished Queen

He shakes his head. “The days like that are the days when I remembered most. I wasn’t as strong as you. I needed something to take the edge off of the pain.”

I don’t remind him that I was twelve years old when all this went down. When the Battiatos stole what was rightfully ours. When cancer took what was rightfully ours, too. He already knows. It didn’t change anything then and it won’t change anything now.

“And you don’t need to take the edge off anymore?”

“No, I don’t. Don’t get me wrong: I do want it,” he says. “I still want it often. But I don’t need it the way I did right after… right after I lost your mom.”

It’s been decades, but the words come out stilted. I can see the grief in his eyes. The deep pain that, until a couple months ago, I never fully understood.

Until Belle.

“You really loved her.”

He takes a deep breath. “I really did. It was the best and worst thing I ever did.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“Your mom was my world. My life. I would have given up anything for her, would have done anything. But then she got sick, and I couldn’t do a damn thing.” He swallows, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “I hated myself for that. I hated myself more than anything for not being able to get her the treatment she needed. And when I looked at how much you missed her, when I realized what a hole she had left behind, I knew I’d never be able to fill it. I knew I wasn’t enough.”

“So you didn’t even try.” It’s not a question or an accusation. It’s just a fact.

He shrugs weakly. “I thought you were better without me. I didn’t think I was worthy. Because, without your mom, I didn’t feel worthy. She was my everything. And sometimes, I think I would have been better off if I’d loved someone else a little less… does that make sense?”

Yes.The voice in the back of my head is nodding along.You care about Belle like that. It’s too much. It will ruin you both.

“None of it matters,” I grit out. “I managed fine without you. If you’re still tortured over how badly you fucked up, you can let it go. I’m great.”

“Are you… Is that your way of saying you forgive me?”

He’s gone perfectly still. I can feel him holding his breath. He’s been waiting for this, working towards this for months, years. I don’t give a shit about any of that. But at some point, not forgiving him takes more effort than just letting all of this shit go.

I shrug. “I don’t care enough to forgive you. Which means I don’t care enough to hold a grudge.”

“I’ll take it,” he says eagerly. “That’s part of why I came here. I wanted to ask for forgiveness. I wanted to—”

“I thought you came to congratulate me on my wedding.”

“That, too. Both. I saw you moving on with your life, and I just didn’t want you to carry your resentments towards me forward. Hate is poison, son. I can’t undo any of my choices, but I can try to make sure you don’t repeat my mistakes.”

“I’d never turn my back on my child,” I snap. “I’ll never repeat your mistakes.”

“God, I hope not,” my father murmurs. “Because I want more for you than that, Nikky. I’ve always wanted more for you.”

“And I have it. Now, it’s time for you to find more,” I say, realizing how genuinely I mean every word. “Let this shit go—me, Mom, your guilt—and move on.”

It’s only been a minute, but he looks years younger. He holds himself a little taller, lifts his head a little higher.

He smiles. I can see tears in his eyes, but he has the self-respect to hold them back.

Finally, he nods.

“Thank you, son. I really… This is what I needed. Thank you.”

He turns and shuffles away. But as he heads around the side of the house, disappearing back into the shadows, all I can wonder is whether I’m repeating his mistakes after all.

36

BELLE

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