Don't Kiss the Bride

My father and Lynn cringe at my words, but I don’t care. If I had to live these horrible things, then they can hear them.

“Finally, I married a man in his thirties and moved in with him so I’d have a safe place to live and medical insurance to get on a treatment plan. I left high school early, missing the prom and graduation and things someone my age should enjoy, because I was bullied into a state of being unhealthy. That’s the toll you and mom took on me, because you both forgot about me.”

Lynn is sobbing quietly and my father’s complexion has gone deathly pale. I don’t feel one bit sorry for them.

“Skylar…” My father’s voice catches and he coughs into his napkin. “No apology can ever be enough to make up for what you’ve been through. I know that. I understand if you want nothing to do with me. I deserve it. But if you can find it in your heart to try, I promise I won’t let you down again. I want a second chance.”

I push my plate away. “Part of my therapy is forgiveness, so I’d like to try.”

He smiles weakly. “I’d like that very much.”

“We truly are sorry for everything,” Lynn says, even though she has nothing to do with any of it. I suppose she feels guilty by association. “We want you to know you can stay here for as long as you want. We have room. We’d love to have you.”

“I think I’ll stay for a little while, but then I plan to rent a studio apartment back home until I figure out what I want to do with my life.”

“Have you put any thought into college?” Lynn asks. “We’d be more than happy to help you.” She’s under the assumption that I graduated early to focus on college.

They also don’t know I’ve won the lottery.

“College isn’t for me,” I say politely. “I’m going to take some online classes, though.”

“That’s good,” my father says optimistically. “And what about the man you’re living with? Have you put up some boundaries like we talked about? Filed for divorce or an annulment?”

During my first phone call with my father a few weeks ago, I was lonely and upset, and probably word-vomited a little too much. I got caught up in having my father finally show concern and care for me. I told him things had gotten complicated with Jude, and feelings were involved, but I didn’t tell him we’ve crossed more lines than a tic-tac-toe board. My father tried to give his best advice, and in that moment, I wanted to act on his advice, because I desperately ache to have love and acceptance from my parents.

But now, I’m not sure I need anyone’s advice or acceptance.

“I’m thinking about all of it,” I answer. “It’s just a difficult, confusing situation with him.”

Lynn is shaking her head and looking horrified. “Forgive me, but that situation sounds very inappropriate to me. It’s sick for a grown man to be married to, and living with, a young girl. It sounds like he took advantage of you and could hurt you—”

“He didn’t,” I interrupt. “Jude is a good man. He cares about me. The only man who’s ever hurt me is sitting next to you.”

“Honey,” my dad says, as if he’s talking to a child. “We’re sure he cares about you in his own way, but it’s still a very questionable arrangement. It’s not normal or healthy, and, as your father, I want you out of that house. We’re both very worried about you.”

I don’t expect them to understand. They haven’t been in my shoes, or Jude’s, so it’s impossible for them to truly grasp the depth of our feelings for each other.

“I respect your opinions, but the bottom line is, you don’t know him. Or me. I’m working on figuring my life out, but I won’t listen to you bad mouth him. He’s been very good to me. None of us are perfect, we’ve all made mistakes, and we’re all doing our best,” I point out. “But I can assure you, he’s not some kind of predator.”

I can’t deal with judgement and assumptions about my relationship with Jude anymore. I left high school to escape that behavior from others. I can’t sort out my thoughts if others are constantly throwing in their two cents when they don’t even know us or what we’ve been through.

“We just want what’s best for you,” my father says.

Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know if anyone—not even myself—knows what’s best for me.

Chapter 49

Skylar

I’m starting to feel homesick.

I miss watching the chipmunks run along the old rock wall in Jude’s backyard.

I miss working at the boutique, taking photos, and talking to Rebecca.

I miss hanging out with Megan.

I miss my bed.

I miss Cassie and her wiggly butt when I walk through the door.