“When are you going to take the rings off your left hand?”

I point at the view of the Hudson River and hide my wedding and engagement rings behind my back. He’s been pestering me about the rings since day one. “Dad. I thought we were watching the sunset together. I thought we were done talking about the wedding, and the rings. And I thought we were finally moving on from the topic of my soon to be ex-husband. Why can’t you please leave it be?”

“So done.” He doesn’t hide the sarcasm in his voice as he picks up the glass of iced tea I’d made for him and takes a sip. His voice sounds extra forced as he adds, “New York City is not ever a place I planned to live, but it’s been amazing so far. It’s also nice that your school is so close to this apartment that you can walk back and forth.”

“That’s why Manhattan is so cool. Everyone walks, everywhere.” We share a small smile—but we both know we’re forcing this conversation as well as the cheerful tones. It’s how my father and have been with each other ever since we left Paris. “It’s also great your new physical therapy guy is only a few blocks away, too. You will get the extra exercise you need now that your cast is off, and if we’re all lucky, you can get some sun on your limb, too.”

“Right? The leg is still alien-pale.” Dad nods, and we both pause to stare at the leg that’s a bit skinner, and way-too white from being cast these past two months. “It seems to have healed whole, and despite some weakness, I think it’s not at all so very worse for wear. Kind of like me, huh?” Not one to fall for my subject-change-bait and switch, Dad points at my wedding rings again. “Robin, if keep wearing those to school, people are going to think—that—”

“Dad—” I cut him off and he frowns. “People already think pretty much everything. Everyone knows who I am, everyone knows my whole life story, and everyone thinks I’m currently married to Royce Devlin, because that is what is true. So, yes, the whole world also knows that he hasn’t been back to see me once since you brought me home.” I shrug. “It’s a daily internet gossip and it’s going very well. It’s what is supposed to happen and it does not bother me that I’m about to head into the world’s most publicized divorce.”

He winces slightly at that, so I lower my voice, adding. “It’s all cool, Dad.”

“Is it? I hate it when you and Sage say that all the time.”

I shake my head, smiling at him. “I know the extra exposure that I’m getting upsets you, because the ‘break-up’ seems to have started, and all that, but I’m pretty much used to it by now. It’s also not a big deal that I’m still wearing these rings. I probably need to wear them for now until they tell me to hire the divorce lawyer. Gregory promised me that by Thanksgiving we will be in full marriage falling apart mode—maybe even ready to sign some papers. Gregory wants to reconnect with his girlfriend—you know, Mrs. Perino, as quickly as possible. And Sage and I finally want you to meet the family that rescued us from that parking garage—so he says he might come meet up with us when we’re down in Orlando. We’ll draw up the play-by-play on the divorce stuff together. Like I can have a say in some stuff, because so far—I haven’t. And… how Royce is dating that horrible Clara girl does kind of—hurt—I mean, suck.”

I feel bad when my dad winces again and says, “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. All of it.”

I wish he would realize that his children, being homeless and in that parking garage that started all of this mess, was my fault, not at all his fault. I also want to tell him that this mess was actually the best thing that could have happened to us, because it gave us such a safety bubble, one that my father gets to stay in while he recuperates.

My therapist—because we’re all in therapy now—told me that my father thinks he failed us by getting kidnapped. So, it might be a long while before he can work through that and understand how Sage and I have no regrets when we look back at everything. We learned so much, saw so much—made so many friends, and luckily we’d managed to stay safe. That’s what’s most important, right?

“I can’t wait to meet the Perinos,” Dad says quietly, drawing both of our thoughts out of the past and into the trip we’re waiting to go on down to Orlando next week. “Mrs. Felix told me she’s not sure if Gregory will make it for the first few nights. Apparently, the tour is adding shows right and left. The guys have been too busy, they’re sleep deprived and everyone is falling apart some.”

‘Oh. Really?” I nod absently, layering that insider information into my heart like a balm. “Well that explains why not even Vere has contacted me as much as I’d expected she would,” I say, shaking my head—and silently adding that maybe just maybe it explains why Royce hasn’t contacted me at all after the first day we arrived here when he’d texted from Berlin only: You okay? And I’d responded: Yes. Okay.

And then he hadn’t texted or called once since, nor had he responded to my attempts to text him. Which hurt way more than him deciding to date Clara during this time.

“What are they like?” Dad asks.

“Who? The Perinos?” I smile, thinking of them. “When you meet them—you’ll realize—you’ll see. They’re simply part of our family now. It’s going to take you about one second to understand how wonderful they are, and how Sage and I fit in there. And it will take only one meal for you to realize that you’re deep in the middle of heaven. The art studio in the cottage we’re sleeping in is as amazing as the one Royce and Mrs. Felix built for me here—but in very different ways. Once NYC is over, they’ve invited us to stay there and start a real life.”

“And do you think that’s possible after all you’ve been through? Does Gregory think it’s possible to do the same with this Mrs. Perino woman?”

“Gregory is so careful, he wouldn’t risk hurting that family if he was not certain it would be okay. And, as for me, the end of my marriage to Royce will be a complete, successful slam dunk. It’s not me the public wants to look at—it’s silver-eyed, electric guitar playing, amazing Royce. I will be just fine anywhere once the public gets bored of me and my divorce. Although, it will be odd to be so young and divorced…because I’d never thought….” I pause, then shrug, trying to breathe in then out, trying to be okay as I add, “You know, because getting divorced is something I swore I’d never do in this lifetime. Ever.”

“I wish I could solve it for you, honey. Hell. I wish I could be the one carrying that divorce.”

I sigh, and force myself to stare at him. “You’re still trying to be the ‘man-in-charge’ kind of Dad. But like I’ve said, I’m trying to live my own life now. I can handle my own problems. And I can easily do what’s in front of me. I know eighteen seems young to you, and maybe it is, but I grew up when you went missing, and no matter how you want to protect me or get our old life back, it’s not coming back. At least not how any of us imagined it would be. I’m an adult now and we all need to move on. We’ve all changed.”

“I know that, and that’s why I pester you about the rings. The fairytale is over. Take them off—you don’t need to wait for a lawyer. It’s time for you to start a new frame of mind, honey. Rings—they do bind. But to me…it seems you can’t move on until you get rid of them.”

I shrug, looking at my iced tea glass so I don’t have to look into his eyes while I only give him half answers to what he’s said. “Soon. I’ve learned this business is all about patience. I don’t want to be responsible for messing it all up, either. They make the carefully laid plans—I execute them along with the other players.”

“Ahh. I guess that makes sense.”

I stare at the twinkle inside the diamonds on my ring finger. “I think it’s going to be soon because he—Royce, posted a whole bunch of photos of him with Clara on his social media pages just yesterday. The day you arrived in Paris, we’d already been talking about my ‘exit’ plan. How it was going to feel, what they might do to fast-track it all. They’d mentioned Royce would be publicly cheating on me with someone and so…I guess, considering the buzz and the photos—it’s in play.”

“Sage told me that girl is a complete psycho.”

I smile, pushing the lumps out of my throat so I can talk. “Sage and I didn’t like her that much. Don’t you love my brother, though? Always ready to kick butt for me.” I pause searching my head for something true to say about Clara that won’t make me sound like I’m all jealous, or sour-grapes. “She’s very…beautiful. Matches Royce’s look perfectly. She knows all about how to act in front of cameras, she knows the right Sushi to order, and which forks to use at fancy dinners. Oh, and she never teeters around when wearing heels. So…yeah. She’s a good choice. Her mom is the lead stylist for the band, so Clara also wouldn’t betray the inner circle if they let her in on the secret by now.”

He takes another sip of tea and darts me a glance. “Again, I’d fix it for you, Robin. If you’d let me.”

“Fix what?” I sigh, feeling my heart settle back into a place that only half aches. “There’s nothing to fix. None of it was real—so it’s kind of hard to fix intangible things, right?”

“Mrs. Felix told me that the friendship you’d formed with Royce was real, yet from what you’ve told me he hasn’t communicated. I can’t help but think that his utter disconnect from you is my fault. I could try to talk to him and ask him why? Personally tell him how sad you are?”

“No!” I protest. “I’m sure Royce needs time. And knowing him he probably thinks he’s protecting me or helping me by not contacting me. Maybe he thinks if he doesn’t interact at all, doesn’t like any of my social media posts, doesn’t talk about how he misses me, that the press will eventually start to take notice of that. See, it could be all part of the break-up. He also knows me well enough to understand that when all of this hits, I will probably need to cry in a very realistic way in front of a whole bunch of reporters—and so the way he’s ignored me and seems to have plans to continue to do so, is giving me that feeling of utter desolation and sadness big-time. It hurts—it does, and I’m going to need to show that pain for the cameras, and then when it’s all over I’ll be fine.”

“Well that’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” Dad starts pacing the line of the railing.

I wrinkle my brow, ignoring his comment. “Maybe I should post photos of me going out with another guy on my Instagram, too? Like a social media sign to him that I’m all good over here. This is why I need to talk to Gregory.” I lock my gaze onto my dad’s. “Because I am, okay, Dad. I am. It has to be this way. It has to look and feel real. Don’t worry. I signed up to do this and it’s all going to be fine. Eventually.”

“I heard Sage talking to Royce only this afternoon. As I walked up on him, I overheard the kid tell him you’re not doing well. Then, Sage caught Royce up on all that you’ve been doing. Or not doing here in New York City. He told him how you’ve hardly left this apartment and that as the days pass you seem sadder and sadder.”

My mouth drops open. First, because…what the hell. How dare Royce call Sage and not me! And second, because…how dare Sage just out me to Royce like that? He’s supposed to be my brother. My brother!

“I’ve been painting.” I stutter out. “I’m rusty on my skills and with the European tour gobbling up half of the summer while I didn’t get the chance to paint I feel really behind compared to the other students who did paint all summer. I’m not hiding out. I’m doing what I want to do, which is live and breathe my studio time while completing assignments for my classes. I promise. I am living my dreams.”

“I even said a quick, hello to him. And Robin,” Dad’s eyes turn double serious. “I apologized to him a second time. He did say how I decked him was all forgiven.”

“Wait.” I wrinkle my brow more. “You talked to him? For how long?” I blink, hardly able to believe it. “A few minutes. Sage was pretty upset after the call. He said he thought the call was sort of a warning from Royce for all of us to get ready for a storm. Royce is worried about how your marriage break-up is going to go down and that you might get a ton of hate pointed at you because of it.” Dad waves his hand in the air. “Sage says the SnapWebStoryChats or whatever it is you all call it—he says the damn Internet is already going crazy with speculations and mean rumors about you not having what it takes to keep a guy like Royce happy.”

“Well. I don’t.” I roll my eyes to the sky. “I’m a proud-hick-army-brat from North Carolina, and I’m not going to be ashamed of that, ever. Girls like me don’t marry guys like him. The Internet gossip is right.” I swallow hard, imagining a long snap-story unfolding where Royce goes from laughing to having his hand around sophisticated, beautiful Clara’s waist like what he’d posted yesterday, to—to—what? To him in a night club, moving her hair off of her face? A couple of shots of him leaning in while everyone sips colored drinks in fancy odd shaped glasses, or whatever is in fashion in wherever the heck the band is traveling now. Shaking my head to clear it, I count through the dates and places Guarderobe had gone after Berlin. After Berlin was Rome, Madrid, then, if they didn’t add Barcelona shows, they were supposed to do Norway, Finland and Sweden. Maybe they’re heading for St. Petersburg, Russia.

If so, then maybe my breakup will all happen over shots of Vodka going down, which is just fine, because then Royce can mention to the press how I’m not even old enough to drink. How I’m just this boring baby who’s never even tasted Vodka.

I picture Royce laughing more than he was laughing in the shot I saw online. He’ll be close to Clara. Face next to her neck, eyes probably locked on her lips. I know when I see whatever photos I’m going to see--because I’m sure I will see them eventually--they will shred me up completely. I’m actually happy they chose Clara because now I don’t have to hate some innocent girl I’ve never met. It’s easy with Clara. I can simply carry on with my bad attitude about a girl who was never nice to me, no matter how much I tried to be nice to her.

Thinking about that has made my heart feel like it’s a balloon and I have added far too much air to it. Like each time I’ve breathed, more air has gone into me, but it doesn’t come out. It’s pretty close to popping, and when it does, I swear it’s going to be a relief to cry this all out, but that’s not for today. Not yet.

Because Dad is studying me—me, as in this new formed adult I want him to think I’ve become—I shrug casually, and sigh adding, “Who knows how it will all settle out. And, I’m cool if Royce doesn’t want to continue our friendship. I get it. It’s going to be strange to try to keep that going, anyhow. As for how he’s ignoring me and the social media posts with Clara that he’s posting now…Royce is just really…really,” my voice cracks as I think: Stupid. The worst person alive. Having dinner with Clara while probably texting my own brother selfies—and emoticons right now—he’s breaking my heart more than ever right now.

I sigh again, finishing with, “He’s really…careful about social media. I’m sure he’s doing it all for a reason, but please know, I do still trust him. He doesn’t want to hurt me. Won’t. Not without a reason. When we meet Gregory down in Orlando, he will shed some light on all of this.”

“That means a lot, coming from you.” My dad says, his eyes piercing mine as though he’s searching them to see if this time I’m lying about trusting Royce. But I’m not.

“Above all of this hurt and confusion, Dad, it’s like I said all along. Royce, he’s like you—very honest. Very trustworthy. I’ll always trust him. I only need time to get over—him. That’s all. Some of my feelings were so real, and there’s a few holes in my heart I can’t figure out how fill up yet. And…because of the whole experience—it felt like he and I grew so close. So, it’s to be expected that I miss where he used to fit in there, right?” I sigh at my father’s doubtful looking nod. “I can’t lie to you about him—don’t want to. Just know I’m probably acting all off because, maybe it was fake, and maybe Royce doesn’t feel the same, but…I miss him. I miss our friendship and talking to him, and even how his hand felt in mine. I also worry about him non-stop. I Wonder if he’s okay. I wish he would call me and tell me that he misses me, too. Which is silly because I know he doesn’t. Not how I do, anyhow. It’s stupid stuff—feelings and memories that I’m lingering over, because I know full well it was all fiction. But you know how I get attached to kind people—and Dad, he’s so very kind. That attachment happened with him. It simply hurts to de-attach. I feel lucky I got to know him up close.”

“That kid was lucky to know you up close.” My dad’s glowering now.

“He’s not a kid, Dad. He’s an adult. Just like me,” I insist. “And I’ll bet he’s hurting some about this, too.”

“Right. Right. And you’re a very loyal young woman. Even now I get the feeling you’re defending him when maybe you should hate him.”

“He needs someone to protect him. Even if it’s only me—and even he never knows I’m doing it, I won’t stop defending him. He’s awesome. Again, he’s so much like you.”

Dad runs a hand through the bright-white shock of short hair on his head. “I can’t lie to you either honey, and I still don’t know if I’ll ever regret the awesome feeling that punch gave me when my hand connected to Royce’s face after he’d crawled out of that bed you’d been sharing. I’d just watched YouTube video after YouTube video of that guy kissing you—first at the wedding, and then on those European dates, and then in that London Eye Ferris wheel—nearly thirty minutes, with the whole world looking on? Damn him. He’s so lucky you and Sage have proved to me that he’s not an absolute bastard-player like how he looked to me on all of those videos.”

I laugh a little. “If it helps at all, I also whacked his face when I first met him, too. I didn’t knock him out like you did, but I messed him up pretty good with your elbow move. Gave him a week long shiner—but what you’ve seen of him, it’s only a mask and he’s very good at that mask. It’s not the real him.”

Dad laughs, and pulls me into a hug. “Well. I’ll take your word for it, Robin. And haven’t officially said it to you, nor am I going to be good at saying it—and don’t expect me to say this again to you but… I was wrong. You’re all grown up now and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I understand why you’ve been so mad at me since we came home, because I’ve been treating you like a baby. Very undeserved.”

“Thank you. But…I haven’t been mad, and I don’t blame you or anything, and…just thanks for agreeing with me.” My grin matches his. “Let’s don’t look back or second guess anything anymore, okay? Can we try that?” I ask him and he nods in agreement. “We’re only happy that you’re back, and that you’re okay and that our family is still a real family with you in it.”

“God.” He shakes his head, voice growing shaky. “I haven’t even come to terms with the fact that I didn’t get myself out. That you, Robin. My little daughter. You got me out of that hole. You found me when no one else could. Where would I be without you?”

“I didn’t get you out, Dad. They did. Royce kept his promise to search, and he and Gregory and Mrs. Felix hired the extractor company. They had the money. They had the pull, the reach, and the connections. Not me.”

“But you had yourself. You were simply you. They all met you, then couldn’t let you go without helping you. I think everything fell into place because you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever known. Don’t underestimate the power of how you love people, Robin. It’s as special as you are, honey. Since the day you were born you’ve been magic to all who know you. I swear, it’s all you—you’re pure love.”

I don’t answer because if I do, sobbing on my Dad is going to ruin any of the ‘I’m an adult now’ speeches I’ve been trying to make him believe.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud. That’s all,” he adds after the silence between us grows awkward.

I pull in a long, shaky breath and take up both of his hands as the feeling I'd had to cry fades away again. “I’m very proud of you, too. Thanks.”

He nods, and the tension in the air that’s been hanging between us since I left Paris is now gone. Something huge has shifted between us. He’s standing in the same space I’ve been standing in since I first ran away with Sage. Instead of trying to pull me back into the past we missed, he’s just let me grow up. Just like that. Here and now, he’s treating me like I’m his equal.

His approval, his thanks—the way I can see myself shining back at me in his over-bright eyes, has somehow allowed me to believe what I wasn’t sure of before—that I am, in fact, all grown up.

Like my dad needs a pause in the conversation so he can think on what to say next, or because now his throat probably hurts as much as mine, he gulps down what’s left of his tea while I do the same.

We smile at each other over our glasses while we swallow down the last of it.

Yep. We’re so much alike.

He starts up again with, “I’ll stop being such a helicopter parent, and I’ll let you decide your own things—life—choices—everything.” He swallows again. “And I’ll stop calling you a kid—more so, I’ll stop thinking of you as a kid, okay?”

I nod, truly elated. “Thanks, Dad. This means everything.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Just be patient with me though. Because, I did something that might piss you off.”

“What?”

His face flushes a little, rushing on, “I—I booked special VIP tour tickets to Universal Studios for when we go down to visit your Perino friends. I—uh—never had the chance to take you two to see that Harry Potter, Wizarding World stuff. And, we’d all wanted to go see it before I deployed. While I was being held hostage, I used to pass hours imagining that I’d take you both there straightaway to celebrate my release when I got home. But if you don’t want to go, or if you feel that my idea is silly and immature, now that you’re all grown up, I’ll understand.”

Our eyes tangle and I leap into his arms. “Dad! I’m all in. Yes. Oh-my-God. Yes. It’s all I want to do. Honest and yay!”

His relieved smile and bear-hug, makes my chest swell with just how much I love my Dad’s heart, and face, and thoughtfulness. Just everything about him is so great. I’m also so excited that Sage and I will get to have this ‘dream-come-true’ moment with our father. But what my father has just said, has also triggered the memory from the day I rode my first real train in the UK with Royce. When he and I had talked on and on about our shared love of Harry Potter.

Royce had promised to take me there, too. Suddenly underneath my elation, I feel sad and confused. Angry that my heart hurts so darn much right now—when I’m supposed to be happy, when I’ve got everything I want, and more.

I’m disappointed that I’m lonely. That I can’t stop missing Royce or missing our friendship. I try to shake the feeling off, but just like every single day that’s passed since I last saw him, I can’t. I just…can’t.

Suddenly the smile I’m holding on my face for my dad hurts as much as my heart hurts. Worse, despite how hard I’m trying to play it down, I think my dad has caught on to the fact that something is still missing—even though Dad and I are now, finally okay. Quickly I tug on his arm and lower my eye-lids so he has to stop staring at me, and say, “Come on. Let’s go tell Sage.”