Page 38 of Touch of Hate

I’m so surprised, I blurt out a laugh. No, it wasn’t a boy from Boston I was ready to throw my life away for. It was one much closer to home. “There is nothing regarding boys that you have to worry about, Dad.”

“Good. Anything but that.” He grimaces almost comically, and I giggle again. He’s in a good mood, which always bodes well. His state of mind can sway the entire family—either you steer clear of him when he’s good and pissed or you can breathe easier when he’s happy.

I’m pretty sure he’ll be damn near euphoric by the time I’m finished. He always is when he’s proven right.

“I’ve made a decision.”

He nods slowly. “You know I trust your judgment.”

He’s feeling especially generous. Maybe he’s missed having me around the way Mom clearly did. I’m pretty sure she resents having to take time to use the bathroom since it means a few minutes she can’t give me a hug or stroke my hair or ask for the hundredth time if I’m eating enough.

“I don’t want to go back to MIT.”

He sits up suddenly, now looking at me with a gaze that promises death and dismemberment. “What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do I have to kill?”

As touching as the idea is, I hold up my hands. “No violence needed.”

“You aren’t just saying that, are you? Don’t get some foolish idea in your head that you need to protect someone from me.”

Of all the times for my stupid, traitorous heart to throb painfully. I was trying to protect someone from him, wasn’t I? Dad would never have been as hard on me as he would have on Ren if we’d ever been found out.

There I was, going against my father in favor of somebody who wasn’t worth it. That’s right. Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll believe it eventually. That’s the thing. I need to believe it.

He runs a hand over his chest, smoothing his tie as he lets out a deep breath. “What brought on this change of heart?”

“It just isn’t for me. I thought it would be, but I’m not happy there. I mean, at least I know, right?”

“Know what?” He’s being gentle, gentler than usual, in fact. Probably because he knows where this is going. You don’t get as far as he has in life without possessing strong instincts. Besides, he’s my father. He’s known me my entire life. Sure, he’s been busy for most of it, but there’s never been a question of his love.

He knows he’s going to get his way, so he can afford to be gentle and patient.

“I know there isn’t something else out there for me. I would’ve always wondered, I guess, if things would have been different had I not decided for myself rather than automatically doing what is expected of me.”

“That’s a very wise and mature way of looking at it.” His eyes twinkle just the same. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Finally, he allows himself the ghost of a smile—tentative, hopeful. I guess I’m glad I can make him happy. One of us should be.

“If you think it means I want to go to Corium, then yes.”

He claps his hands together, the sound loud and sharp in the otherwise silent room. “You don’t know how relieved this makes me. As much as it pains me to know you were unhappy there, I can’t pretend having you at Corium won’t be a huge load off my mind.”

Of course, because it means he’ll be able to keep a closer eye on me than ever. Not only will Lucas Diavolo pay special attention to me simply out of loyalty to my father, but everyone will know I’m Q’s little sister. I’m a Rossi and, therefore, royalty. I probably won’t make a move without somebody knowing about it.

Right now, I don’t care. It’s something I’ll have to deal with later. I’m sure I’ll come to resent it, but I can’t feel anything right now. I’m still numb, almost shell-shocked. I wonder if I’ll ever feel anything again.

Considering all the good my feelings have done me so far, it might be better if I don’t. I’ve racked up plenty of sleepless nights and endless headaches after crying my eyes out. Hating myself for being so stupid and trusting and needy.

Dad is unaware, too busy practically glowing with gladness. “I’m very happy to hear this, and I know your mother will be as well. I assume you haven’t told her yet.”

Of course, because otherwise, he would know by now. Mom would never keep something like this from him, at least not for long. “You’re the first one I’ve spoken to. Well, besides Tessa.”

“I’m sure she’ll be sad to lose you.” That’s not what he really has on his mind, though. As usual, he’s thinking ten steps ahead, the way a man in his position has to. It’s a habit, even more so when it comes to his kids. He’s already making a list of tasks. He’ll want to call Lucas to make sure my room will be ready for me when I get there, that kind of thing.

And the best I can do right now is sit here and be glad one of us is happy.

“I’ll announce this at dinner,” he decides, which comes as no surprise. This is my news, but he’s going to treat it like his own. I don’t care. It’s not like I feel any emotional connection to the decision. I’m not going toward Corium. I’m going away from MIT and all the disappointment I experienced there. It’s not like I’m looking forward to this. There’s no hope in my heart, no gleam in my eye. Maybe things will get better, and my life will settle down into a comfortable, fulfilling track.

Somehow, I doubt it.

I leave him to his planning and self-congratulation in favor of wandering. Puttering. It seems like that’s all I’ve done since I got home: walking aimlessly from room to room like a ghost haunting the house. Going to the library and picking up a book before putting it back, uninterested. Examining some of the framed photos here and there.

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