Page 19 of Hard to Forgive

I was grateful when his friend got his attention and he started focusing on his own work. Not that I noticed. I certainly hadn’t spent any time watching him work or studying the way his brows furrowed when he focused.

I was still working when lunch was called. For a moment, it was just me and Silas in the room. I was terrified that he would come over and break the silence, ruining what had been a good morning for me. He hadn’t. He left the room just before me. I got to the elevator just in time to see him get in. I hung back, just out of sight, not wanting to share with him.

Not that it mattered. For some reason, his elevator went up. When it came back down, it was empty. Curious, but not worth the mental energy to figure out why he could possibly be going upstairs when the break room was downstairs.

The break room that I completely bypassed. I’d been in a hurry that morning and hadn’t had time to pack lunch. There were usually food trucks parked in a lot two blocks away, and it sounded better than the questionable sandwiches in the vending machines.

I was halfway there when my phone rang. The ringtone had my heart sinking down to my toes and my stomach tying itself up in knots. I took in a deep breath and withdrew my phone. My father’s picture lit up the screen.

I should ignore it.

I never ignored it.

I answered the call, greeting him with a voice I hoped gave no indication to the mounting anxiety inside of me. The anxiety continued to rise as we made small talk. I just waited for the other shoe to drop. It was never just pleasantries with my father.

When he called, he wanted something.

He always wanted something.

“I need your help.” Bingo. “Sue lost her job, and rent is coming up.”

“How much do you need?”

“You don’t have to sound so put out,” he chastised immediately, as if he hadn’t just asked me for a favor. “It’s a loan, Jonas. It’s not like you’ll never see the money again.”

“I know, Dad.” Just like every other bit of money I’d given him since he’d come back to King’s Bay three years ago. The problem was: he had yet to pay a penny back. It wasn’t like I could say no, either. I’d tried that before, only to be crushed by a guilt trip. “How much do you need?”

“Three hundred,” he answered immediately.

I began to do the math in my head. I had it in my savings, but it would put a major dent in my emergency money. The size of the dent made my mouth go dry. My tires were looking a little bald. What if one of them went and I needed to replace all four tires? The three hundred I gave my dad would mean I couldn’t replace them.

But what if I didn’t give my dad the money? He and his girlfriend would be evicted.

“I really do need you to pay it back this time,” I told him meekly.

“Jesus Christ, Jonas,” he hissed. “Is that all you fucking care about? I just told you that Sue lost her job and that I need help with rent, and all you can do is harp on about repayment schedules?”

The weight in my stomach grew tenfold.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I know you’ll pay it back when you can. I’ll—I’ll bring it over after work, but I have to go. I’m about to go into a meeting.” I didn’t care that it was a lie. I couldn’t breathe.

I needed to get off of this phone call before he sent me into a full spiral.

“Bring it by tonight,” he demanded before hanging up.

I resisted the urge to throw my phone. I was no longer hungry.

I turned around and went back to the office.

After lunch, everyone was too loud. The lights were too bright, and the office was too cold. I couldn’t focus on anything. It felt like there were things crawling under my skin. I knew what it was. It had a name, and I had medication for it. Medication thatI’d taken that morning, and it didn’t feel serious enough to need the emergency pill I kept on me at all time.

Thiswasn’tsome Dad-induced panic attack.

I took in a deep breath and pulled my earbuds out of my work bag. I didn’t know Yvette’s policy on listening to music while working, but I doubted she’d have a problem with it. She didn’t seem to have a problem with much of anything. And if I didn’t focus on something that I could control, I was going to explode.

My palms ached with how deep my nails had dug into them. My knuckles hurt from the tension. I was struggling to hold myself together, and I couldn’t lose it at work. That wasn’t an option. Letting people know how hard I was paddling under the water just to appear functional wasn’t an option.

Especially not when Silas had come back from lunch with an expression that was somehow more smug than the one that usually lurked on his face. At least he seemed content to ignore me. I couldn’t handle him right then. I would get fired.

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