My Forbidden Doctor (Forbidden Medicine 7)

"I think you should seriously consider expressing your feelings instead of hoping things get better next time. We've been neighbors for years, Mel, and you've never had an encounter with your dad that you didn't bitch about afterwards for some reason. I have a feeling that if you told your dad exactly how you felt, you wouldn't need to cut him out— he'd do it by himself rather than try to change."

My cheek twitched in a small frown. Terry was able to perfectly put my anxiety into words, and I instantly slumped in misery. Scratching Kimi's head absently, I frowned as I wiggled my bare toes on the ottoman.

"You're an adult, but you're still his kid, Mel. It's not and shouldn't be your obligation to deal with him just because he's your dad. Considering all the grief he's put you through, I'm honestly surprised you still put up with him."

"I don't know. I guess... I just... Mom's gone, you know, so I guess I don't want..." Trailing off uncertainly, I pursed my lips thinly while Terry nodded out of the corner of my vision. "I don't want my cat to be the only thing in the world that loves me, even if it's a fantasy. Until I have no reason to believe it, I'll keep on."

"You literally just said your dad didn't care if you died, as long as he felt good about himself by taking you somewhere nice." Terry hung his upper body over the short, 4-foot divider to snap at me— not rudely, but like he was trying to wake me up. His wide, brown eyes grew wider when his brows disappeared above his hairline. "Hello! Melissa, are you seriously going to say that shit and then ignore it? Just because your asthma attack could've been 'more serious' doesn't negate the fact that he knowingly brought you somewhere that triggered it, even after you pointed it out and suggested alternatives. Okay— your dad knowingly put you in harm's way. It doesn't matter that you're okay now— you could've had to be hospitalized or worse— you could've suffocated right at that table and died. If your dad purposely ran you over with his car, but you didn't die, would you forgive him? This is exactly the same."

Scrunching up my nose at that, I sank deeper into my wicker chair. My butt hung off the edge, and I glared at my feet as I flexed them. Once again, I was sucked into my own thoughts, trying desperately to refute the points Terry had made. My dad was my dad, so he had to care about me... right?

I was obligated to endure because he was my only parent left, and I didn't want no one to be able to fall back on.

But the last time I asked my dad for help with something, he blew me off. I was moving into this apartment, and he'd promised— sworn up and down that he'd come help me move my stuff. In the end, though, I had to get the movers to help me with a very green incentive.

If my dad purposefully ran me over with a car, would I act the same way? That was basically what had happened. My dad forced me to go to that restaurant, wanted the best seat in the house— which ironically wasn't even inside the building— and ignored me. Even during my asthma attack, he just sat there expecting my inhaler to be a miracle cure.

"I know it's the same." My tiny voice squeezed out from behind the dense lump in my throat, and I inhaled a shallow, ragged breath. "I know."

Out of the corner of my vision, Terry climbed over the divider, and I blinked back the sting in my eyes. A horrible feeling clawed up from my gut, riding waves of bile that I forcibly swallowed down. Tightening my grip on my cat while Terry sat gingerly on the chair's arm, I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of his hand stroking my hair.

"You're a great person, Mel. I'm not gonna stop being your friend." The rough material of his work jeans rubbed my face when I rested my cheek on his thigh. "You'll be okay, even if it hurts for a while."Chapter 6CarlNervousness tingled my palms as I twirled my keys, staring up at the super nice, ritzy restaurant my mom had directed me to. I reached to swipe down my mouth, hoping to wipe away the nasty taste on my lips. Inhaling a deep, sharp breath, my heart rampaged against my ribs.

As the days dwindled to this night, my mom had talked more and more about Augustus, and I really didn't like what I was hearing. They went here, and they did this, and they talked about going to that European country...

There was far too much money being thrown around, and I had this gnawing, sickening feeling that it wasn't this guy spending much of the stuff. My mom was loaded after the death of her second husband, but this kind of spending wasn't how she operated. Sure, she liked nice stuff, but lately, all she seemed to do was spend on doing things with this guy.