But I’d already climbed out, needing to feel fresh air in my lungs. I loved Celeste, I did. But sometimes, it was too much. Sometimes it was too hard to forget that she’d had the life I should have had. That while I was living in The Row—barely surviving—she was here, playing princess in her pristine white castle.
It wasn’t her fault, I knew that. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“Hey.” She caught up to me as I slipped inside the house. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” I said a little hastily. “I just can’t talk about it right now.”
“Oh, okay.” Her words were as tight as her smile. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? We could—”
“Girls?” Michael’s voice clanged through me.
“It’s us, Dad,” Celeste called.
“Can you come in here please?”
She shot me an apologetic look before taking off down the hall.
I took a second to calm myself. I didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to spend even a second longer than necessary in his presence. But I couldn’t avoid him; not without raising suspicion. And I wasn’t ready to call him out on everything, not yet. Because it would mean ripping open wounds that were barely healed, and I didn’t know how that would affect the shaky progress I’d made.
“Harleigh?”
God, he couldn’t just leave me alone. He didn’t sound particularly pissed though, which was a saving grace. Obviously, Max was keeping the truth to himself for now.
I padded down the hall and entered the kitchen. “What’s up?”
My father’s brows pinched, that cleft in his chin more prominent as he frowned at me. “Did you have a nice evening?”
“It was fine.” My lips pursed.
“We hung out with Miles.”
“I see.” His gaze swung to Celeste. “Things are getting serious between you and him?”
“Daddy.” She flushed. “It’s very… new. But it’s Miles. He’s a good guy.”
“That he is. And Nate Miller, was he there?”
“Yeah, I’m not doing this,” I said, distaste curling my lip.
“And what is it you think we’re doing?” Michael studied me, deep and probing as if he was trying to figure me out.
“This attempt at a father-daughter chat.” Bitterness coated my tongue.
“We’re just talking, Harleigh.” He smiled. An honest-to-God smile that made my insides shrivel and die. “Is that such a bad thing? That I’m taking an interest in your life?”
“Whatever,” I murmured. “I’m going to my room.”
“Harleigh, wait—”
But I didn’t wait.
I hightailed it out of there as if the hounds of hell were nipping at my heels. He was deluded if he thought I wanted to bond over boys. I didn’t want anything to do with him. Never had. And that was before I’d found out just how deep his betrayal ran.
My entire life Michael Rowe had been nothing but the villain in my story.
That wasn’t ever going to change.