Page 85 of Losing the Rhythm

“Is that why you moved so far away from me?” I asked. “Because of a canyon? Is that why you couldn’t be bothered with me?”

“I sent you letters.”

I snorted. “Letters. I never got a single one. I had to give this a lot of thought after I finally got one of your letters. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. You did reach out to me, and Lindie was keeping them away from me. But you know what else weaseled its way into my head these last couple of days? The fact that was the only thing you did. Write letters. Did you ever try to come see me?”

“I sent some letters directly to your mom too, asking if I could see you.”

“And let me guess, you never got a response and you took that as your answer.” I gritted my teeth and blinked furiously, but the ache inside of me was turning into a chasm. I was about to drown in the pain. It was worse after talking to Paxon’s dad. A father who did fight for his children. Hard. Even Micah’s dad. Graham fought hard for his wife for a very long time. And for Micah too. He fought to keep his family together and succeeded. “The two of you divorced in such an ugly way that it never crossed your mind that she wanted nothing to do with you? That she’d just ignore yourletters.”

“I truly wanted to see you.”

“Then why didn’t you fight to do so!” I snapped out. The people around us grew quiet, and I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to breathe. We shouldn’t have met here. We shouldn’t. But I didn’t want him in that empty house I was supposed to call home. I didn’t want him over at Seth’s where it was my sanctuary. I didn’t want him touching any part of my life when he could so easily leave it. I blew out a breath and worked around the rock in my throat to keep talking, this time in a softer voice. “Letters. That was the length of your resolve to see me. Letters so easily tossed out. So easily lost. Did you ever come back and face Lindie in person? Demand she let you see your onlylivingchild? How hard did you fight to see me? I want to know.”

Dad’s face grew impossibly white as I dug that little tidbit in. He obviously knew about the miscarriage. “I thought the letters were enough. She changed numbers.”

“You had our address in order to send mail.”

“I’m sorry.”

Was that all he could say? That he was sorry?

“When I learned that you had been sending letters, I was furious with Lindie. I practically stormed into the hospital to confront her. It was just too unbelievable. But she’s sick. She’s struggling and how can I be mad at a sick person? I couldn’t even talk to her about it because she’s a broken woman and it felt too much like I was beating a person already down. I wasn’t even allowed to be angry with her the way I needed to be. But because of that, I was able to realize something else. You only sent letters, didn’t you? And you’re a sane man. You don’t have any health issues, do you? Are you healthy?”

“You can be mad at me.”

“I don’t need your permission to be mad at you!” I slammed the table and then stopped myself from doing worse. I wanted to stand up, to scream at him, to throw my drink at him. I wanted tohithim. I wanted to make him hurt the way he made me hurt. “I painted this pretty picture of you. Of a strong man, a man who had been my steady rock growing up. But now I can only see things from different perspectives. How you were gone a lot for work, leaving me with Lindie. How you only ever saw half our life because of your work. I had to have my therapist explain to me what neglect was, and it wasn’t something that happenedafteryou left. It happenedbefore. Lindie neglected me.”

“What?” Dad went rigid in his seat, eyes practically bugging out of their sockets as horror transformed his face.

I gave him a smile that felt feral and half-mad. Maybe it was time I committed myself too. Maybe her craziness was hereditary. I could practically feel his shock ricochet through the air and I wanted to dig it in more. I wanted to make sure he hurt as much as possible. “She gave you her best self, but could never be bothered with me. It was always just a show when you were around. The love she gave me only ever existed when you were nearby to see it. Then you’d be gone for weeks, and I’d have to learn how to feed myself, wash myself, dress myself, do my own laundry, catch the bus by myself. And then you’d be back and she was back to loving me until you were gone again. Over and over and over.”

I drew in a breath, my throat hurting from talking so much about things I never said to anyone.

“Then you left me with her and you never came back. You never tried. She didn’t need to pretend any more. And she blamed me for so much. For it all. And she took it out on me. Over and over and over again. The only benefit I had was the fact that you taught me about music. About it all. And she used that knowledge. Put me to work. Writing jingles at first, small paid performances until I got old enough and better, and then songs. Songs you’ll hear on the radio as top hits. Songs that were played over and over again by millions. The only love she had left for me was as her moneymaker. That was it because she no longer had to pretend. You left me with her and you never looked back. You only ever paused long enough in your journey to open your own gallery to write a letter my way, like I’m some kind of half-assed afterthought.”

Dad was pale as a sheet, growing a little green as I talked.

“Cadie, I had no idea.” His words sounded so broken. Tears fell down his cheeks as he gaped at me.

“You weren’t around to know. You left, remember? And now you’re back and asking me to leave behind the life I created after climbing out of hell to come live with you?” I shook my head.

I couldn’t outright say no because saying no to his request felt too final and I didn’t want that. I still wanted to cling to him. To cry in his arms. To let him soothe away all my aches and pains like he did when I was a little girl. I wanted my superhero back. My rock.

“In accordance to New York State law, I am no longer seen as a child. I’m an adult, able to live on my own. I have more than enough money in my savings to cover my cost of living for the next couple of years. Frankly, I barely even have to touch it as I continue to work. Dad, I had to learn to live without you and I did. I know you want to hear forgiveness from me, and maybe if you didn’t wait so long, I’d be more than happy to jump into your arms and cry, but right now, I can’t even get up the nerve to touch you.” I made a point of looking down at his hand on the table, now curled into a fist, shaking slightly. “I don’t know what I want from you anymore. I don’t want to say anything that will become irreparable, but right now, with time to think and after talking things out, I’m angry. At you. I’m glad I talked to you. I think it helped me realize that. I think it helped me realize a lot of things.”

My heart felt like it was shattering as I kept talking. We shouldn’t have met. We shouldn’t have.

“I built you up to be a hero in my head. You were the dad who loved me unconditionally. The man who used to lift me up and spin around. Hug me when I was hurt. Brought me on fun adventures. The man who helped me fall in love with music.” I pushed my drink away. “But that was all the daydreams of a little girl who needed a person on her side and lost that when she was ten. I can’t be her anymore. I’m seventeen now. I know how to pay bills, work, and balance work with school. I know how to negotiate contracts. I know my worth as a songwriter. What exactly do I need you for?”

The sharp breath was exactly what I wanted to see. Dad looked like he was crumbling away now. As broken as I felt for so long. He was hurting and it was exactly what I wanted.

So why did I feel like complete trash? Like a complete bitch? Why was self-hatred and regret roaring around inside of me.

I shattered my dad and me with him.

Chapter Twenty-six

Everything became a bit of a haze after that. Once I finished shattering Dad, we sat there, not saying anything. I watched Dad cry. I wanted to cry, but somehow I managed to keep it together. Then when it was clear we couldn’t say anything else to each other, I stood up and left him there. I tore him apart, stripped him of his standing as my father, and then walked away.

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