“What do you mean?” he prompts, taking the glass he just washed and placing it on the bar between us. He fills it with top-shelf vodka, cranberry juice, and garnishes it with a lime, sliding it across to me, then making one for himself.
I take a tentative sip then close my eyes and moan. “I think I just found my new favorite,” I murmur, then open my eyes to find his filled with heat. I clear my throat. “Um… where was I? Oh, history repeating itself. So, my mom stayed with dad, even as he continued to cheat on her. I became Mom’s… best friend, really, instead of her daughter. She vented to me every time Dad messed up, and I heard things I definitely shouldn’t have been at that age. Things you tell your thirty-something-year-old girlfriends, not your fourteen-year-old daughter.”
I take another drink before continuing, astonished how easy it is to talk to him about things I’ve never spoken to anyone about besides my sister, who lived through it with me. “It wasn’t until years later we realized it was because she was financially dependent on him that she stayed. Mia and I always told her just to leave him, over and over again, and we didn’t understand it when she told us she couldn’t. Like I said, I was fourteen at the time, so old enough to have immature opinions about the situation. I thought she was weak, too in love with my dad and holding on to what wasn’t meant to be. When really, she was just scared of trying to make it on her own and failing.” I shake my head again. “I know all too well now what she was feeling when it comes to that. For months, I seriously thought about trying marriage counseling, whatever it would take to fix my marriage, and only because I was scared of not making ends meet on my own.”
“How are you feeling about that now?” he asks, taking a sip from his glass.
I think about my answer, squeezing the wedge of lime into my drink and stirring it with the little black straw. “Hopeful.” I nod, a little smile pulling at the corners of my lips. “With my little side gig making wreaths, my account was only overdrafted twice. So I’m getting closer to making it a whole month without late fees.” I chuckle. “I’ve stopped letting my sister contribute to the bills. Just her little bit toward the mortgage she calls her rent. I just couldn’t take the guilt anymore. She has no idea I’m unable to cover everything quite yet, so please don’t mention it to her if she comes in.”
I see a flash of what I can only describe as anger flit across his face before he hides it, and he asks, “What did your mom and you girls do when your dad asked for a divorce?”
I prop one elbow up on the bar top and rest my head in my hand as I lean forward. “Well… we got a small two-bedroom apartment, and mom got a job as a secretary at a law firm. She met and started dating Chaz about a year later, and that’s when everything changed… for the better. She had Chaz to vent to, to be her rock, instead of me, and I became her daughter again. It took a while, but Chaz proved to us there was such a thing as a real man, one who treated their woman with respect and love and unbending faithfulness. He retaught us what it meant to trust someone.”
I laugh uncomfortably. “But even so… even with having that amazing father-figure in our lives, there was lasting damage from the years of listening to Mom rant and vent about everything my dad was doing. My sister says we have the dreaded daddy issues you always hear about, and I’m sad to say she’s not wrong. I ran off and tried to fill that hole in my life that my dad left, even after Chaz healed a big part of it. I have abandonment issues, I’m sure. I tried to find a man who would love me and never leave me the way Dad did and ended up marrying one just like him.” I shake my head. “My sister did the opposite. She won’t let anyone get too close. She was in a relationship before she moved here to help me, but when they broke up, she wasn’t even sad about it. She was just pissed he did it over a text.” I chuckle.
He leans his elbows on the bar, putting us much closer together than before, and my breath catches he’s so achingly handsome. “Have you thought about taking the same route your mom did? Maybe getting a smaller place? I saw your house the night I took you home last week after the tequila. It’s no wonder you’re struggling to make the mortgage payments, even if the girls’ dad is paying child support.”