Following Maggie (Coming Home) - Page 14

“It’s not too early?”

I shook my head. “My father believes in ‘early to bed, early to rise.’ He’s up at four a.m. every day.”

She shuddered a little. “I’m not much of a morning person.”

I grinned and kissed her cheek. “Neither am I. See how right we are for each other?”

That made her smile. Bending down, she grabbed her bag. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

I sat down, staring at the phone, knowing how bad this was going to go. Before I could take the coward’s way out, I dialed his number and hit send. He picked up on the first ring—his usual terse greeting.

“Sebastian.”

“Hello, Father.”

“Are you still stuck in the airport? I expected to hear from you late last night.”

“No, I’m in Alberta. That’s why I’m calling.”

“I find it hard to believe they’re still backlogged and bumped you off there.”

I swallowed hard. “They didn’t bump me off. I bumped myself off.”

There was silence for a moment. When he spoke again, it was with his carefully controlled tone—the one I hated the most. “Why would you do that, Sebastian?”

I stood and began to pace the room as I spoke. “I’m not coming to BC.”

I heard the sound of a fist hitting something—no doubt the wall or whatever piece of furniture he was the closest to.

“Get your ass on the next plane, Sebastian. I’m serious.”

“No.”

“What did you just say?” he uttered slowly.

“I said no. There’s no point in me coming there—I won’t stay. I don’t want to sell insurance. I don’t want to give up music. I’m just saving us both a lot of disappointment.”

“So, what is your plan, then? Begging on the street? Playing that stupid guitar and asking for quarters?” he snapped. “You irresponsible ass! Have you not figured it out yet? You don’t have the talent, or the money, to keep doing this. Stop your damn daydreaming and grow up!”

I tamped down the hurt caused by his words. He’d always hated music. I thought it reminded him too much of my mother. So did I. In a way, I supposed that was why he wasn’t overly fond of me either. I took in a few deep breaths before speaking again.

“I know you’re angry, Father, and I’m sorry. But I’m not coming. I’m staying here.”

“Where is here, exactly?” he demanded.

I didn’t want him to know where I was. For some reason, I wanted to keep it to myself.

“I’m not far from Calgary.”

“What the fuck are you doing there?”

“I’m staying with a friend. I have a lead on a job, and I’m going to try it here.”

“If you don’t get your ass on a plane today, Sebastian, and this fails—and we both know it will—I won’t help you. This is your last chance. The offer ends today. I’m tired of your immaturity.”

“Why can’t you let me live my own life? Why can’t you support me?” I cleared my throat of the emotion that was building. “Why do you dislike me so much? Because I look like Mom? Act like her instead of you?”

“Don’t you talk about your mother.”

“Of course not. I can’t talk about her or how you ignored me since she died or how I feel. The only things we can talk about are your expectations and how I disappoint you at every turn!” I shouted, my anger getting the better of me. “I’m never enough, and it’s not going to change—ever!”

“Oh yes, throw in the neglected child and the dead mother card. How badly you were treated and the cruel life you’ve led.”

I sat down, too tired to stand anymore. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m not coming. I’m staying here where I have a chance of being enough for someone and I can make a life I enjoy living.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I met someone. She believes in me, and I want to see what happens between us.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Now you’ve, what, fallen in love? In a day?” he snarled. “Did some whore cozy up to you, all sweet and loving, pretending to care? Promising you a happy future?”

“Don’t,” I hissed into the phone. “Don’t you dare say a word about her, or about us. You know nothing. You don’t know me, and you certainly don’t know her.”

“Grow up!” he yelled. “Either you get back here right the fuck now, or I’m done with you!”

I shook my head, even as a tear slid down my face. He would never change, and I had to end this, for my own well-being. “Take care of yourself, Father.”

After I hung up, I sat on the sofa, not moving for a while. Finally, I stood and, with heavy treads, went upstairs, not surprised to find Maggie sitting on the top step, looking sad.

“Hi,” I murmured. “You heard, no doubt.”

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”

I shrugged and sighed heavily. “I expected it…but I guess I still hoped.”

Tags: Melanie Moreland Romance
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