Page 162 of Heartless Beloved

He can’t mark you before the party. People would know.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“You’re always sorry, Alex.” His threatening step makes me retreat. “Can’t you just dobetter? Can’t you at least try to make me proud? With the time, energy, and money I spend on you, can’t you be thankful?”

“I do try.” My throat is so taut I can barely hear my own voice.

“Try harder because it’s exhausting to have a disappointment as a daughter.”

He turns around to leave my bedroom, but before he crosses the doorway, I call out, “Dad.”

“What now?” he sighs as he peers back at me.

My chin trembles, my voice thick with fear and hope.

“Do you love me?”

I need to know. Can someone be so cruel and still love you? Can that same person who breaks you on a daily basis feel something other than hatred? Is that behavior normal from a father?

What did I do? Why am I not enough? What mistakes have I made for him to think so little of me?

“Don’t be ridiculous, Alexandra,” he scoffs. “You’re my daughter.”

He leaves me with those words, managing to avoid answering my question.

I believe that…had he said those three simple words, I might have been stupid enough to forgive him for all the hurt. Except he didn’t. And I think that’s what seals our fates.

I just wanted to be enough.

Half an hour later, chauffeurs are dropping off guests in expensive dresses and suits as they round the fountain in our driveway. Some are driving their luxurious cars and handing them off to the valets we hired. Guests are filing inside our house, giving invitations to the security guards at the door. My dad, my mom, and I are standing by our front door, greeting everyone. My cheeks hurt from the fake smile on my face, and my ears ring from my mother’s high-pitch voice every time she saysI’m so glad you could make itwhile my dad gives firm handshakes.

I simply stand between them, my hands clasped at my front and nodding, smiling, saying thank you when I’m told how wonderful I look.

My dad has me wearing a dusty pink dress with a tight satin bodice and a mesh skirt that spans out all the way to my ankles. The spaghetti straps hold the sweetheart neckline close to my chest, so there is no chance of an accident like one of my boobs popping out. You know, so it calms his fear of people thinking that’s all I’m about.

God, I hate him.

I hate my father, but I smile to myself. It’ll all be over soon.

Ella hugs me while her parents say hello to mine and laughs in my ear. “I hadn’t seen you dressed in adaughter of a senatoroutfit since we started at SFU, and it’s so hilariouslynotyou.”

“I know,” I snort in her ear.

“Alexandra Delacroix without any fuchsia just feels wrong.”

“Itiswrong,” I giggle.

We separate, and I say a vague hello to her dad. His way of looking at women makes me deeply uncomfortable and makes me believe that the accusations against him might actually be true. That’s not something we ever discuss with Ella. She prefers to brush it off and not even utter an opinion about it.

“Where’s Lucas?” my mother asks Gerald’s wife.

“His plane doesn’t land until later,” his dad explains.

“Has Baker’s Café been keeping him busy in L.A.?” my dad inquires.

“Of course it has. It was about time he proved he has what it takes to handle a real business.”

Ella gives me a look, annoyed at her dad’s words and defensive of her older brother. If Luke comes later, he’ll probably show up with his friends, and I’m slightly excited to see Jake White again. The king of Stoneview Prep will undoubtedly be as beautiful as ever, and I don’t know one girl in our school who wasn’t completely in love with him.

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