I hear nothing.
I shouldn’t be here…
…but I have to try.
“Mom, Dad,” I say, taking a deep breath. “There’s something I want to ask you before I sign this paperwork.”
My mother stops talking, and my father stares at me from beneath bushy eyebrows. Pulse hammering, I take a breath through my teeth.
“It’s about Lucy and Sawyer.”
“What? Are they dead?” My father arches an eyebrow, totally oblivious to the fact that his words just sent a dagger piercing through my chest.
I shake my head. “N-no. No, they’re not dead. They’re doing really well. They’re up in the Pacific Northwest, in a town called Woodvale. I was thinking that before you leave, you might want to go up there. Lucy’s son is almost three, and—”
“Our flight is this afternoon,” my father interrupts.
“Your sister knew the rules when she got herself knocked up,” my mother says, smoothing her hands over her already-perfect hair. “We have nothing more to say. She lost the privilege of being part of this family.”
I gather my courage. “It’s been years. Don’t you think it’s time—”
“It’s time,” my father booms, “for me to retire. Now, I’ve marked all the pages where you need to sign and initial. The lawyer should be here any minute to witness it.”
“What if I don’t want to be on the board? If I don’t want the house?” My voice is small, but I force myself to hold my father’s gaze.
My mother laughs. “What are you talking about, honey? Of course you want the house. Plus, where would we stay when we come visit?”
“I don’t know. A hotel?”
I stare at her, but her face is blank. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffs. “We need you to take care of the house while we’re gone. If you won’t look after your father’s business, this is the least you can do. Your brother and sister turned their backs on us, and now you’re the only one we can trust.”
I know she’s being manipulative. I know in my heart that those words aren’t true. I know that my brother and sister didn’t just leave—they were thrown out.
So why do I hesitate?
I should walk out.
I should get on the first flight back to Woodvale and go to Benji’s party. I should throw myself onto my knees and ask for his forgiveness, knowing that real, genuine relationships are more valuable than anything else—and definitely more valuable than all this fakery.
But my father’s face softens, and he stands up to come sit down on the armchair next to mine. When he takes my hand in his, my chest constricts.
“We’re so proud of you, Rae. You’ve done so well over the past few years, and you’ve proven yourself worthy of the business. But it’s time to step up now. You’ll have the house to take care of. We need you.”
Why do those words have such an effect on me?
In my heart, I still want my parents’ approval. I still want them to love me. I want them in my life.
Even though they turned their backs on Lucy and Sawyer. Even though they’ve never met Roman. Even though they have no qualms about treating me like the golden child, when my siblings were tossed out like dirty bath water.
They’re my parents.
Hasn’t it been drilled into me to care for my elders? To respect my parents? Didn’t they give me everything when I grew up?
I wouldn’t have a successful résumé if it weren’t for my father’s money. I wouldn’t have gone to the best schools, the best college. I wouldn’t have had the opportunities they gave me.
Don’t I owe them something back?
I feel like I’m being split in half. One half of my heart wants to be in Woodvale. To be as strong as Sawyer and Lucy, and just walk away. To run to Benji and forget about the money and the power here in Houston. To leave oil and gas behind and pursue the landscape architecture business I’ve always dreamed of. To do something for me.
But the other half?
The other half is just a scared little girl who wants nothing more than her parents’ approval.
And stupid, silly me, I still want them to meet Roman. Still, deep down, I think it would change how they think of Lucy.
I take a deep breath. “Will you come to Woodvale? Please? If I sign for the house, will you delay your flight and come up to meet them?”
My father shifts away from me, letting out a low grumble. My mother sighs dramatically, wrapping her silky kaftan around her slim waist.
The doorbell rings, and the two of them exchange a glance. “We could possibly go see them,” my father says, and hope flares in my chest. “But that’s the lawyer, and we need to take care of this paperwork.”
27
Benji
On Saturday morning, the sky is gray. It matches my mood. I roll over in bed to see the empty space beside me, sighing.
I miss Rae.
Even though I want to be mad at her, I still miss her. I miss her smell. Her laugh. The way she sighs happily when she has her first sip of coffee in the morning.
Everything.
But I also hate that she left. I feel stupid for not seeing her for who she is. Who she’s always been! I feel like a fool for falling for whatever act she put on.
There’s a text from her on my phone, but I don’t have the energy to answer.
Have fun today, she says.
Have fun? Have fun?
Who does she think she is? She takes off the day before the event I’ve been planning for weeks—the day I was so proud to have her as my date—and she tells me to have fucking fun.
As I swing my legs off the bed, a realization dawns on me.
Maybe it’s not just the house that her parents are gifting her. Maybe she didn’t want to be my date at all. Maybe she was all too happy to leave today, because it meant she didn’t have
