Time ticks past. “Do you have any idea how selfish you sound?”
A weight slams into my stomach and I lose steam. A lot of it. I can actually feel it leaving my fingertips. “I know I have amends to make. I think about it all the time—”
“Oh do you, really? Do you think about the humiliation you’ve caused your family? Hiding for almost two months while we endure the questions from our friends and the media says otherwise. How about your fiancé’s embarrassment? Do you honestly care about that? Because holding hands with this tattooed fellow seems to prove otherwise.”
“Yes, I…” I’m being violently shaken awake from a dream. It was all a dream. I’ve been living in this fantasy world while others dealt with the consequences of my actions. How could I have done this? “We—this wasn’t supposed to happen. With Jason.” I know I shouldn’t voice my next question, but it escapes me before I can prevent it I’m so desperate to appeal to my father. “Of all people, you must understand, right? I tried to help how I feel about him, but—”
“Do not throw my past indiscretions in my face, young lady,” he snaps, the lines in his face growing more prominent. “Well, well, well. How like your mother you are, Naomi. You will not turn this around on me.”
“That’s not what I was trying to do—”
“I’ve had to answer for my actions for decades. Decades. Now the woman’s illegitimate child is being pictured all over Charleston with Elijah. Speculation about her parentage is rampant. Your absence has made it seem like the past happened yesterday.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, meaning the apology for my father as well as Addison. To know so little about who fathered her and having the press throw it in her face must be terrible. “I couldn’t have known she would come to the church. I haven’t seen her in so long…and who knew she’d form this relationship with Elijah—”
“Call it what it is. A transgression with someone completely unsuitable.” He scrubs an agitated hand against the back of his neck. “It seems you’re both dead set on ruining your family names.”
“It doesn’t sound like Elijah to create a stir or bring negative attention to his family unless it was unavoidable. Maybe he loves her.” Is it crazy that I feel nothing but hope for them, if the rumors are true? There’s no jealousy or sense of loss. Just…bittersweet hope.
My comment makes my father livid, though, the sunshine coming through the windows highlighting the spittle flying from his mouth. “You would love that, wouldn’t you? It would excuse everything you’ve done and you could continue your affair with some muscle head—”
“Don’t you dare say another word about him. Don’t you dare.” If I had a baseball bat handy in this moment, I would bash the kitchen cabinets to smithereens. “He’s the most honorable man I’ve ever met. He’s been serving overseas while we all sat in air-conditioned parlors and wore stupid hats to parties.” I almost laugh when my hat comment brings an affronted expression to his face. “Jason came home to raise his sister and feels guilty that he’s not off somewhere almost dying every day. He’s honest and heroic and protective of the people he loves. He pays attention to the small things and likes my battle stories…and…”
And I’m in love with him.
Deep, deep, inescapable love.
That realization must be showing on my face, because my father doesn’t speak for a long time, his expression turning weary. For a split second, I think I even glimpse some understanding, and it makes me wonder if he was in this kind of love with Addison’s mother. All of his compassion vanishes in a big sweep, though, and he advances toward me.
“Listen to me, Naomi. This little rebellion has gone on long enough.” He jabs a finger in my direction. “If you’re not home by tomorrow, you will be disowned and disinherited. Your mother and I took great pains making this decision and we’ve agreed. I wouldn’t suggest testing how serious I am about this.”
That threat…no, that promise hits me like a ton of bricks. Disowned. I’ve heard of families turning their backs on black sheep. My own family did it to Addison. Her mother and grandmother. But this sounds formal. Jarringly real. His eyes tell me he means it, too. They would absolutely disown me for causing them this humiliation. Needles pound down like typewriter keys in my chest, the pain reverberating in outward waves, turning my limbs to jelly. My parents would refuse to see me ever again. We’ve had a difficult relationship, but I love them. They love me, too, don’t they?
As far as being disinherited…money has never been a concern. Even while working, earning a paycheck and buying my own food these last couple months, the fact that I could return to my own life and be comfortable again was always in the back of my mind. I was never truly broke. It was all an illusion. But this is real. This possibility of going from wealthy to a pauper in the space of one day is terrifying.