But living with Tyler, going through the motions as if they were a couple with a future, how could she not feel a need for more in her life than she’d have without him? Yet unless and until she straightened her head out, she couldn’t begin to think about anything beyond the here and now.
By the time they returned to his place, she was exhausted and in need of alone time, where she could get her head back on straight. She excused herself, and Tyler said he’d let her know when dinner was ready. She didn’t know what he was preparing, and she didn’t much care. She was just grateful she didn’t have to cook it tonight.
With her head pounding, she headed for her bag, looking for some ibuprofen that she kept on hand. Frustrated when she couldn’t find the small bottle, she dumped the contents of her bag onto the bed … and the letter from her father fell out.
She picked up the envelope, now dirty and worn from traveling in her purse, and settled onto the bed. She’d told herself she needed to read the contents, and she took this as a sign it was time, whether she was ready or not.
> She stuck her nail under the flap and opened the envelope, pulling out the paper and unfolding it. Two pieces of paper fell out, a visitor’s application and a handwritten letter. Drawing a deep breath, she began to read.
Dear Ella, I know it’s been awhile. Far too long, really …
She recognized her father’s handwriting, the scratchy penmanship causing a lump to form in her throat. There’d been a time after her mother had died when he would help her with her homework, making notes for her to look at later in the same nearly illegible hand.
She swallowed hard and noticed at a glance that the note wasn’t long.
You may not believe me, and I don’t blame you, but I miss you and think of you every day. I understand why you no longer come visit, and I even believe that I wouldn’t deserve it if you did. For that reason, I’m going to come right out and tell you what you need to know, without me sugarcoating the words. I’m dying.
A sob rose up in her chest, bursting forth from her throat. Feelings she hadn’t known she had, and would have denied if asked, bubbled forth, and she began to rock back and forth on the bed, tears dripping down her face as she continued to read on.
The doctors said I have end-stage lung cancer. Guess all those cigarettes I smoked along with the booze finally caught up with me. Though I have no right to ask, and was never there for you when you needed me, I’d like to see you one last time. If nothing else, I’d like to apologize in person and to tell you I love you the same way. You need to fill out the application and return it if you decide to come. Yours, Dad.
Ella wiped her cheeks with her palms, but the tears kept flowing, with big hiccupping sobs she couldn’t control.
“Ella, dinner!” Tyler called, obviously thinking she’d showered already.
She glanced around his bedroom, the large king-size bed and the two nightstands and matching wooden furniture around the room. Though she wasn’t alone in the true sense of the word, not while she was in Tyler’s house and surrounded by him in all ways, she’d never felt more isolated and abandoned.
Tell him, a voice in her head said. Tell him and he’ll hold you and make it all better.
“It’s temporary,” she replied, as if it made sense to talk out loud. And if there was one thing she knew how to do, had had to learn how to do, it was to survive on her own.
“Ella?” he called up to her again.
“I’m not hungry,” she yelled back. Leaving everything on the bed, she grabbed an oversized shirt of Tyler’s and a pair of her underwear before closing herself in the bathroom and turning the shower on full steam. She stripped off her clothing and shut herself in the glass enclosure, letting the burning water rush over her skin.
While there, she cried hard, unleashing the emotions rampaging through her at the thought of losing another parent. Because, she realized, although they hadn’t had contact, it meant something to know her father lived somewhere in this world. The fact that he soon wouldn’t meant she’d wasted so much time and energy on being hurt and angry. She’d spent all this time without him when maybe they could have healed their rift. And she was the one to blame, because really, how could he have visited her from prison?
He could have written before now, that voice reminded her. But she wasn’t listening, not when it felt like the weight of the world sat on her shoulders and every decision she’d made had been the wrong one. So she cried some more, for the mother she’d lost and who hadn’t seen her grow up, for the father who’d all but thrown her away, and for not trying once more with him, before it was too late.
She’d go see him, she decided, but when all was said and done, he’d be gone from her life for good. And she’d be left as alone as when she’d started.
Chapter Eleven
Tyler heard Ella answer his call for dinner, a mumbled sound he couldn’t understand. He gave her some time before heading up to see what was keeping her.
He walked into the room to find her pocketbook on the comforter, contents spread all over. The shower ran in the bathroom. He scooped up the tissues, wallet, and other things, tossing them back into the leather purse, and then he came to the handwritten letter and visitor’s application left open on the bed. He picked those up too, intending to fold them up and put them away, but he couldn’t help notice the tear stains on the paper, smudging the ink.
And though it was wrong, and rude, he scanned through the document anyway, muttering a low, succinct curse when he got to the end.
“That stupid, selfish bastard.”
So he wanted to see his daughter, but couldn’t he have told her the news in person instead of dumping it on her that way? There were so many other ways this could and should have gone down, but then every choice Harry Shaw had made in life had been the wrong, most hurtful one. At least when it came to his only daughter.
Leaving the letter on the nightstand, he headed for the bathroom, stripping his clothes off as he walked, intending to join Ella in the shower and care for her the way she needed.
Except when he reached the bathroom and pushed the door open a fraction, a loud sob reached his ears, breaking his heart.
He joined her in the steamy shower, shutting the door behind him and pulling her into his arms. Trembling, she plastered herself against him and let go, her tears mixing with the water sluicing down his chest.