Page 105 of Our Secret Moments

“It’s not a big deal,” he says, looking between the two of us. JoJo stumbles, trying to get to her feet and I help her up. She holds onto the back of the chair, giving herself stability. She tries to talk, no doubt to tell my dad to stop, but no words come out.

“Itisa big deal. Mom left that there. She didn’t move it, so it needs to stay where it is,” I demand, trying to get in his way, but JoJo’s soft hand rests on my forearm, urging me back. “Dad, just leave it. Please.”

He ignores me and leans up to take it down anyway. Like he said, it isn’t a big deal. But for some reason, it feels like it is. I always thought there was something unspoken between the two of us that whatever my mom left would stay the way it was. We wouldn’t move things because it is a part of her. But when he takes down the embroidery a piece of me shatters, another piece of her being stripped away from me. Before I can tell myself to calm down and stop, the tears rush to me, hot and angry.

“Why do you have to do these things?”

“Do what, Catherine?” My dad’s voice booms in the small room, making JoJo flinch from where she’s standing.

“Make things worse! You don’t talk to me for months, suddenly you want to fix things and you start by taking that down and you bring me here for… What? An intervention? To tell me to get over it whilst you can continue to ignore me?”

He scrubs his hands down his face. “We need to move on.”

“Move on?” I repeat incredulously, my hands flailing as more tears stream down my face. “We’ve barely had time to grieve, dad!”

“Catherine. Sit down,” JoJo warns, bringing both of her hands to her face. I try to blink back the tears, but it only makes it worse. My heart rattles in my chest, my hands shaking.

“I have, Catherine. I’m trying to move on, but you keep punishing me,” he shouts.

“Eric.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, my hands doing most of the talking.

“We don’t work anymore because you’re pushing me away for your friends. If you stayed home, maybe this wouldn’t have gotten this bad, but you decided to leave. You left, Catherine. And you’re expecting me to carry the weight of our relationship when I have a serious and important job to do,” he argues. JoJo shakes her head, muttering a curse word as she holds both of her hands to her temples.

“We don’t work because you don’t try, dad. You never had. And now you’re finally realising that it’s never going to be the same, so you interrupt my day when I was busy just so you could shout at me,” I retort, trying to smooth my hands over my jersey.

Connor’s jersey.

He’s probably thinking I abandoned him. My chest squeezes at the thought and I’m crying harder for a whole other reason.I miss my person. Ineedmy person.

My dad gestures to my shirt, only just realising that I’ve been wearing a Drayton Titan’s jersey with ‘Bailey’ on the back and Connor’s number on my sleeve. “See, you don’t get it. You don’t understand what it's like to be in my position, Catherine. If you did, you would have been here instead of with that boyfriend of yours.”

“Eric. Stop it, now. You’re upsetting her.” JoJo manages to speak through a cough, but my dad doesn’t listen as he stalks closer to me, pushing past her.

I’m not going to let him make me feel guilty for spending time with the people who actually care about me. The people who treat me as a human and love me for me. The people who don’t expect anything from me and just let me exist.

“Connor has nothing to do with this,” I shout.

“He has everything to do with this! You’re forgetting who you real family are, Catherine, and your mother would be so disappointed if she knew you were-”

“Don’t youdaretalk about how my daughter would feel about Catherine.” JoJo’s voice is weak, but it holds the weight of the world in her words. Tensions are running high and we all need to take a deep breath.

“What? It’s true. Family is supposed to be first, always. You know that, Joanne,” my dad says, his voice rising again.

“Jo, are you okay?” I ask, stepping beside my dad.

“She’s fine.” Just the sound of his voice makes me tense up.

“I don’t… I don’t think I’m feeling so good,” she murmurs, her eyelids closing. My heart thrashes against my chest as her hands clasp mine. They’re cold. Too cold. I look back to my dad, but he doesn’t say or do anything.

“JoJo,” I say softly, “Come on. You need to sit down. All this standing can’t be good for you.”

Before I can guide her to the chair, her knees buckle and she hits the ground.

I’ve always hated hospitals.

I mean, whoenjoysgoing to a hospital? Exactly. No one.

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