A hope that Dad wouldn’t do to me what he had done to her.
And a request that I remember her.
My heart breaks into a million pieces as I realize the woman that I held such hatred for, such disdain for not running away and saving herself, her brothers from this man that’s held us prisoner here for so long, loved me more deeply than I was lead to believe.
Jocelyn loved me.
She wanted more for me than this life that Dad chose for her, for all of us, and I hated her for not trying to escape, believing that to be the reason the rest of us were stuck here.
But what if she did try? What if he caught her and that’s why she ended up in the oubliette? What if that’s the real reason he seems to be so much more different with me? Is it because he’s secretly afraid that I’m more her than him and he knows that I’ll try to grab our children and leave him all alone?
How could I have not realized it before now, Dad? I’ve finally figured out what scares you, I think through bitter tears. You’re afraid to die alone and unloved.
Somehow, I have to find a way to gain his forgiveness for what I did to his truck. I have to understand that whatever punishment comes my way because of my actions, is well-deserved and my own fault, and I have to be Daddy’s little girl.
It’s the only way to get him to trust me again.
* * *
The sun has fallen from the sky by the time Dad finally comes back to the room. I’ve taken Jocelyn’s note and hidden it under the dresser. I wonder if she ever thought I would get the chance to read it, but I know now that she did love me and I’ll find a way to make this right.
It’s the least I can do for the one person I harbored so much resentment for now that I know the truth about how she felt.
I won’t let you down, Mom.
I’m sitting against the wall with my arms wrapped around my leg, watching Dad as he cracks his neck and lays down on the bed. I take him in, realizing that his hands look dirty, his boots seem a bit scuffed, and that the yawn he lets out is tired and unsettling.
When will you finally die? I wonder bitterly. I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is not how to approach him. No way will I get back in his good graces if I can’t control my thoughts.
“Daddy?” I ask from the floor.
“Yeah?”
“Can I lay in the bed with you?”
He lets out his breath impatiently, clears his throat, and shifts slightly before propping himself up onto his elbows and glaring at me.
“Well, I guess that depends, Darby.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I say, choking back a sob. “I just got so angry and I know that what I did was out of line, and I swear to you that it’ll never happen again. Please tell me that you forgive me.”
I don’t wait for his response before I bury my face in my hands and burst into tears. I haven’t lied to my father in a very long time, and I know that now, I’ll have to become a master of deception to do what needs to be done and it hurts me.
Not for myself, and not for my children, but for the man that honestly loves me the only way he’s ever known how.
“Get your ass into this bed,” he says, his voice tired and a little less stern. I get to my feet quickly and walk over, kick off my shoes, and climb onto the bed next to him. Dad reaches over and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him and when I lay my head against his chest, he uses his free hand to wipe the tears away from my face.
I look up at him through the haze of tears, and see it. The father that he could be, and not the man that he is. His eyes are tired, his face is slightly worn, and he seems to have aged a little more than since this morning. There are more grays in his neatly cropped mass of black hair, and he looks so close to defeated that I decide not to ask him anymore questions.
“Go to sleep, Darbs,” he says, leaning down and kissing my forehead gently.
I do as I’m told and close my eyes.
I won’t ask about Cleo again tonight.
I’ll take my punishment in the morning.
And maybe the day after, I can get him to realize that there is a small part inside of me that does love him the way he loves me.