She chews her lip nervously. She decided she wanted to tell her parents in person she’s pregnant. I think she’s crazy for wanting to do that, but I know she probably needs this. She needs to see them and have some sort of closure. She left and went to college and never came back. This feels final.
“I don’t want to,” she finally says, stepping forward in line. “But I need to.”
“I understand.” And I do. Besides, I’ll always do what she wants to do. I would never push her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. She starts worrying her lip between her teeth again. “Nova,” I say deeply and she looks at me with wide sorrowful brown eyes. “You can do this,” I tell her. “You’re stronger and better than those people. Whatever they do or say doesn’t change that.”
She nods and swallows thickly. “You’re right.”
I grin. “I always am.” I can’t help saying the words, because I mean, I am.
We hand over our tickets and board the plane.
I’m nervous to meet her parents but I don’t let it on. I’m nervous because I hate them. I hate them for what they’ve done to Nova and I’m afraid of what I might do or say, and I’d never want to do anything that might upset Nova.
I tuck my carry-on bag into the compartment and then take Nova’s and do the same. We have a return ticket for tomorrow so it’s not like we needed to pack much.
Nova plops into the seat by the window and lets out a heavy breath.
I sit beside her and she drags her sad eyes to mine.
Her pain is my pain, and seeing that look in her eyes is like a kick in the chest.
A part of me wants to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, carrying her out of here and telling her to fucking call them and be done with it. But I know she needs this closure and I’m not selfish enough to deny her that.
“Just remember,” I tell her, my voice low, “no matter what happens, they don’t define you and you don’t need their approval to be happy.”
She takes in my words and nods. “I know—I hate that there’s still some small part of me that wants them to love me.”
I frown. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. It’s all I can say. We both know people like them will never change. They’re not capable of love. Only destruction.
My dad changed once he was dying. Fuck, as sad as it is that short amount of time I had with him there at the end was some of my best moments with him in my entire life. It was like he was finally free of the shackles he’d been binding himself with. He opened up more to me in that time than I ever thought possible. He confessed how cruel his own father had been to him, and for him it was normal, it was all he knew, and therefore he treated me the same way. I sympathized with him but I also felt anger, because even though I grew up with him treating me like shit I knew I’d still never do that to my own kid just because it’s what I knew. I don’t have it in my heart to be that way. Sure, I’m crass, and rude, and probably too bossy at times but I care and there lies the difference.
Regardless, I’m glad I had time with my dad and got to see him in a different light. It actually made me a bit sad when he finally passed, but if I hadn’t had those moments with him and seen there was a spe
ck of good in him, sadly I don’t think I would’ve cared. In fact, I probably would’ve said good riddance and danced on his grave.
“My mom already doesn’t approve of you,” Nova sighs.
“Oh, really?” I raise a brow. “And how does she know me?”
She rolls her eyes. “Owen’s mom called her and told her all about you. I guess she made it seem like you were some tattooed prick or something.”
I snort. “I barely spoke at that stupid dinner—if you can even call it that.”
“Exactly,” Nova sighs again and I get the feeling she’s going to be doing it non-stop until we get home. “But my mom and Claudia apparently still gossip like a bunch of chickens.”
“Claudia looks like a fucking chicken.” The words come out under my breath before I can catch them.
Nova busts out laughing and slaps a hand over her mouth. Fuck, I’ll say it again if it gets that reaction out of her.
“She kind of does, doesn’t she?”
“Her nose is beak shaped,” I confirm. “Plus, she has those beady eyes that spell death if you stare into them for too long.” Nova suppresses more laughter. “I guess this is the time I should say, Confession: I really fucking hate chickens.”
Her laughter bubbles out in uncontrollable bursts. “Why?”
I take a breath. “Once when I was little, we went to visit some distant relatives of my mom’s. I don’t even know how we were related to them. Anyway, they lived on the farm. I was little, probably five or six, and I really wanted to see the animals but the adults were all talking. So, thinking I could handle anything, I went off in search of the animals. I petted a couple of sheep and kept going. That’s when I spotted the chicken coop.”
“Oh, no.” She presses a hand to her mouth, stifling more laughter.