Stephanie
What the hell is going on?
I feel like I’m about to witness a brawl.
I’ve never seen my dad like this.
My hands are clenched knuckle-white under the table and, even though I want to say something — to tell my dad to back off, to tell Luca to calm down, something — I can’t even find my voice.
I didn’t expect this. At all.
I knew my dad was going to be a little harsh on Luca. It’s been a long time since I’ve brought a boyfriend home and Luca looks nothing like anyone else I’ve dated. But this is going too far.
Hell, I didn’t think my dad even had it in him to be this stern.
But here he is, and now the room’s descended into silence.
The tension in the air is a living, breathing thing and I feel like any moment now it’s going to snap.
“Fine.”
That’s all Luca says.
I blink. Even my dad looks taken off guard.
We both watch, silent, as Luca gets up from the table, surprisingly calm, and heads to the door. Then I realize what the hell is happening and I’m up on my feet and running after him and I catch up to him on the front porch.
I can’t let the man I love leave like that.
“Wait,” I say, breathing hard with the emotions — anger, frustration, confusion, love — that are swirling in my chest.
He pauses and his face hardly betrays any of the rage that I know has to be simmering just below the surface.
I’m angry. I finally find someone I can trust, that I can open my heart to and tell them that I love them, and then I bring them home to the other important person in my life. Who then proceeds to rip them a new one.
He smiles, trying to play things casual, like what just happened didn’t happen. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow, bella?”
“Don’t go.”
“Look, these things happen. I’m not surprised — I’m not the type you bring home to your parents — and I’m not angry. I’ll see you tomorrow, all right?”
He turns to go and I reach out and grab hold of his arm and squeeze it tight. I’m not letting him go.
“No. Look, I am angry about this, even if you aren’t. Just wait here, ok? Don’t go. Please?”
He pauses, and looks at me, considering, and inside, I am just willing him to stay. I finally have someone new — something good — in my life and I’m not going to let tonight of all nights end on the words ‘get the hell out of my house’.
No way I’m letting that pass.
He shrugs — which on it’s own is infuriating in how casual it is — and says “I’ll be in the car.”
I don’t watch him leave. I turn around and storm back inside, my feet pounding like a soldier’s march against the floor. My dad is still sitting at the table, looking so even-keeled I’d hardly believed he’d just kicked someone out of the house.
“What the hell was that?”
My voice is shaking and I keep shifting my weight from one foot to the other, bouncing like I’m in the ring.
My dad looks back at me, and he hardly reacts to how agitated I am.
What is going on here?
“I’m just protecting you from making the kind of mistake you can’t come back from.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“I don’t know if you’re too blind to see it, Stephanie Turner, but he’s lying to you.”
I’m pacing, agitated, glancing from my dad and to the ceiling and back again. Right now, I can’t bare looking at him directly. There’s this all-knowing, condescending look on his face.
As if he has any right to talk about mistakes.
“He’s told me about his past. About what he used to do.”
“And you believe him?”
“Yes, I believe him,” I can feel my voice straining. I’m on the verge of shouting. I want to explode right now. I want to throw something, I want to knock over this table, I want to punch something.
How can he sit there so calm?
“Then you’re lying to yourself. I care about you and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“What right do you even have to say that? The only reason we’re in this mess is because of the choices that you made.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that maybe that’s the reason I don’t sleep at night? I failed you as a father. I disgraced your mother’s memory and I’m reminded of that every single day. It makes me sick,” his voice breaks, and I can see moisture at the edge of his eyes. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ending it all. Did you know that? I’d sure as hell deserve it. The only thing that keeps me from doing it is knowing that it would end up making life worse for you. In the end, I’d be just another mess for you to clean up.”
I swallow. “Dad, don’t talk like that.”
“You deserve the truth. And the truth is, you are the only thing keeping me going. I’ll be damned if I let anyone hurt you — and if you keep him in your life, that’s where it’s going to end up. There is more going on with that man than he lets on and none of it is good, I promise you that. You can not trust him.”
The last time I saw him this determined, this unwavering, was after my mother died, when my tears had finally dried and he promised that even though I’d lost her, he would do everything he could to make sure that I didn’t lack for the love or opportunity that I deserved.
It’s enough to give me pause. But only for a moment. There’s no way Luca can be anything close to what he’s describing. I know that in my heart as certain as anything else in this life.
Luca’s the only one in my life lately who’s even helped me, who’s made my life better.
I know what I want.
“You’re wrong.”
I turn and I start to the door.
My dad stands up slow, leaning forward on the table for support.
“I can’t stop you, Stephanie. I won’t. But I will always be here for you.”
I’m hardly listening. I slam the door behind me. The crash echoes through the still night air like a gunshot.
Luca’s waiting there for me, leaning back against the door to his BMW, hands in his pockets and faint smile on his face. He opens the car door for me as I approach, and I slide down into the leather seat.
Silently, he gets in next to me. I turn to him.
“Let’s go.”