Page 84 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

Slowly, he nods. “Eventually, yes.”

Another shard snaps off, and my voice exposes my agony when I whimper, “I want to come with you.”

My father hangs his head. “I wish you could.”

Tears flood my eyes before spilling over and he gathers me in his arms. “This isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

“Just for one year until I graduate,” I beg while clinging my arms around him. He squeezes me, and I cry harder, “Please, Dad.”

“I’m not home enough to take care of you.”

“I’m almost eighteen; I can take care of myself.”

He doesn’t respond, no one does as my father continues to hold me. I want to do so much more than cry, though. I want to ball my fists and scream so loudly that it shatters the windows and causes my mother’s heart to bleed worse than mine is.

I want to be thunder and lightning, but more than that, I want to be free. Free from this place, free from my mother, free from everything. I want the clouds to part so I can feel what it’s like to run through the heat of the sun, to fly without anyone throwing stones at me.

Can’t I just breathe? For once, just for a moment, actually breathe?

When I begin to quiet, and my father loosens his arms from around me, Dr. Amberg hands me a tissue, explaining, “Because of your father’s travel schedule, your parents feel it’s best that you stay with your mother as you continue moving forward in your treatment.”

“Harlow?” Her voice is weak, but I don’t care.

I don’t even acknowledge her when I ask my father, “What about Tyler? Does he know?”

“Yes, we told him.”

“When?”

“Before he flew back to North Carolina.”

My mouth gapes. “So, you knew when you were here for family day and you lied to me.”

“We wanted to wait for the right time. And with ...” He drops his eyes to my wrist, and I hate that he does. “We wanted you to focus on getting better instead of worrying about us.”

“I’m not some broken doll,” I defend, even though I know it’s a lie.

“No one said that you were.”

“Then why do you treat me like I am?”

Letting go of a deep breath, his shoulders slacken. “This is tough, and we’re trying to make the best decisions, but there’s no instruction manual for how to handle all this.” He takes my face in his hands and looks me in the eyes. “You are my daughter, and I love you. God, I love you so much. Just because things didn’t work out with your mother, nothing will ever come between you and me, do you hear me?”

I nod, but I can’t do this. I swear, the emotions piling onto my shoulders have me teetering on a cliff’s edge.

Turning my head out of his hold, I look over to Dr. Amberg with a defeated, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

As soon as he nods, I walk over to the door and wait as he calls for someone to come get me. My skin grows itchy, and I can’t stand still. I need space.

“Harlow, I’m so sorry,” my mother says, but I don’t want to hear it.

Ducking my head, I shift my feet as I wait impatiently. An eternity passes before Marcus opens the door and takes me out of the room.

“Everything okay?”

No. Everything is all wrong.

---