Chapter Five
Livia
I yank open the door to the fridge, ignoring how the handle is barely hanging on. I’ve tried screwing it in a dozen times already, but it keeps coming loose. I know enough to know that means it’s stripped and it’s also beyond my capability to repair. Maybe Gray could fix it? But as soon as I think it, I shove that thought right out of my mind. I don’t want him to witness my problems first hand, let alone feel as if he has to fix shit that should be my father’s responsibility.
I like him. I like him so much. But I want his affection, not his sympathy. I’ve already opened up to him more than I have anyone else and it’s terrifying he’ll hate what he sees when all the covers are thrown back, exposing all the crap hidden beneath.
We’ve spent practically every night of the last three weeks together, except a handful. I miss him those days, more than I should. I met his parents last week. They’re incredible and I find myself envious for so many reasons. His brothers are just as cocky as Gray. Just as handsome and fun and irresistible, too. And the bond that family has? They have no idea how lucky they are. How unattainable it is for so few.
When we aren’t hanging at his house, sometimes he’ll come into Rocky’s and just chat while I close out my shift. Then he’ll follow me home, calling once I’m inside to make sure I made it to my bedroom safe and sound. Then we spend hours talking on the phone until one of us falls asleep. Usually me.
He took me to a movie night before last, insisting on a real date. Remembering my answer in another rousing game of This or That, he bought me milk duds, knowing I prefer them over Mike and Ike’s. We shared a large popcorn and soda. We let our fingers brush when we reached into the bucket at the same time. Let them linger a few times, once twining our pinkies as we looked into each other’s eyes, then started giggling so loud we almost got kicked out.
And our make out sessions have been off-the-charts hot. The chemistry arching between us like electric bolts is almost too powerful for either of us to resist, but when I tell him to slow down, he’s been a perfect gentleman. Just as I knew he would be.
He’s been patient, understanding. For me, sleeping with a guy means I have an emotional connection to him. It means something more than just spreading my legs, making each other feel good. We haven’t talked about that specifically, but with Gray I wear everything on the corner of my sleeve. He reads it clearly. He knows what taking this next step means to me and he’s been waiting for me to be ready.
Tonight I am. I’m ready to go all in. Hand over my heart, the rest of my soul, and pray I don’t get burned in the end. We’ve been together just a few short weeks and in reality that’s not nearly enough time to know someone, yet I knew the moment I set eyes on Gray Colloway that he was the one. The one every woman dreams of finding, yet not many do.
Her reason for being.
Her soul mate.
“What’s for dinner?” my father’s scratchy voice belts behind me, shattering my fantasy of a better life I never thought I’d have, but now want with desperation.
But once again the reality of what I live with day-to-day barrels down on me with the force of a Monster truck. What’s for dinner? I stiffen; anger bubbling at what’s staring at me from the cool box. Three wiry shelves hold a nearly empty milk carton, a twelve pack of Busch Light, and a bottle of ketchup. I close it and pivot, fingers digging into the counter behind me for support.
“I thought you were going grocery shopping after work?”
“Don’t start on me, Livia,” he grumbles, dropping his tool belt in the middle of the kitchen floor.
I clamp my teeth together, biting back a cutting retort, though I’m not sure why I even bother. No spiked words could cut through flesh that’s hardened into concrete. I miss the father I used to know. The one who threw me up in the air, making me laugh until I was dizzy. Who taught me to ride a bike and catch butterflies and do three somersaults in a row. The one who used to care about what happened to his children. All that’s left is a husk of man who used to be great once upon a time.
“Dinner?” he repeats, flopping onto a wooden chair. The back leg wobbles and my father adjusts his slight weight to balance it out until he’s satisfied he won’t end up ass first on the floor beneath him. I can smell the vodka wafting off him from ten feet away. Like a closet smoker tries to cover their habit with a giant douse of cologne, he thinks he hides those nips he takes with the mint he pops in his mouth before walking in. I now detest spearmint.
“Give me some money and I’ll go pick up a few things,” I coax, going for nice.
Blank stare.
Fucker. Fucker, fucker, fucker. Why is it you still love the person who brought you into this world even though they’ve given you every reason not to? It’s illogical. I wish I could hate my father’s guts for what he’s done, who he is, but all I feel for him right now is apathy. And maybe that’s worse. I don’t know. I really don’t know.
“Well, I guess you’ll have to fend for yourself, then.”
He frowns, trying a different tactic. “Don’t be like that, Libby girl. I had a bitch of a day. I’ll pay you back. Promise. Money’s a bit tight this week.”
Same song. Different tune. Always off-key.
My father owns his own handyman company, although I’m not sure how. He has to barely be hanging on to it by his cracked, dirty fingernails. Any second I expect to be served a foreclosure notice from the bank. If it wasn’t for Alyse, I would have been long gone, but she’s only a sophomore in high school and I can’t leave her like…this.
“You told me you were going to ease up on the gambling, Dad.”
At least he has the decency to look guilty. I never used to call him out like this. We swept it under the rug, pretended business really “was” bad, but I got tired of letting him off the hook. I work my ass off, putting my future on hold to shoulder his responsibilities because he’s incapable. So now I make him squirm.
“I need you to cut me a break. I’m trying. It’s not as easy as you think.”
I think it is. Choose your family. Get help. Battle your demons. Try harder. But it’s all been said before, a thousand ways, a thousand times. Greed blinds logic. This I’ve learned the hard way.
“Trust me, I am cutting you a break.”
I’m one step down the hallway when he uses that single piece of leverage he always uses against me.
Alyse.
She’s my weakness. I stay because of her. He knows it. He exploits it. I let him because what other choice do I have?
“What will Alyse eat?”
Fuck. Er.
But it won’t work tonight because Alyse won’t be home. If he were any kind of father he would know that. He would know she has a volleyball tournament starting tonight for the entire weekend. He’d be there, cheering her on. But he doesn’t and he won’t. I’ve come to expect no less.
“I’ll take care of it.” I hurl at him as I keep walking toward my bedroom, tacking on as I refrain from slamming my door, “I always do.”