“That’s very controlling, yes, and emotional manipulation. I’m going to hazard a guess, but he made you feel guilty about loving your mother?”
Yes.
“Your brother?”
Yes.
“Both of your sisters?”
God, yes.
“And I bet you even like your stepfather, but you’ve barely had a conversation with him?”
My lips parted in shock. “How do you know this?”
He inclined his head, his eyes never leaving my face. “Because that’s a toxic, controlling relationship. You’re blind to it when you’re in it, but everyone else sees it.”
That had my whole face warming but from mortification. “Everyone?”
“Everyone.”
I was taken aback. By him. By the situation. By how he was even speaking.
I shouldn’t have passed on wine. I wanted the room to swim around me. I think I needed it at that moment.
I gestured to him, nodding, but I didn’t want to look at him. Anywhere but at him. “You say it all matter-of-fact.” I looked now, and I was angry. I was pissed. I wanted to hurt him, but I knew it wasn’t him whom I wanted to hurt. He was just the one here. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my father. You don’t know anything. You fucked Valerie, and your sperm attached to her egg during one of those bed romps, and here you are. You’re inserting yourself into my life, and you’re—”
I needed to stop.
My God, I needed to stop. I was so wrong, but the anger was still there. The words were still there, and I wanted to say them. I yearned to say them.
What was wrong with me?
The room was starting to spin now. It was about time.
I felt like I was dancing again.
For a moment, I closed my eyes, and everything was fine. Everything was right. Everything was how it was supposed to be, but I knew that wasn’t the truth. I was deluding myself.
I was doing what I had always done growing up. Lying to myself and letting myself believe the lie.
I wanted to lie to myself now. I wanted that so bad.
I wanted to tell Nate Monson to go to hell. I wanted to stand, call my father, and have him take Nova and me back to the estate.
I wanted to go back to that misery because it was the misery I knew. The misery I was comfortable with.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I was angry with Nate because he showed up and upended my life.
I wasn’t angry with him. I wasn’t even angry with Valerie.
I was angry with myself because I chose to believe my own lies for so very long.
I was such a screwup. “I’m so sorry. That was out of line. I was out of line, and I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“What? No. How are you thinking that?”
But it was. Horror was starting to replace the anger, and I felt it starting to pummel my organs. The room kept spinning, spinning. I felt like I was doing a pirouette, and I couldn’t end it. “If I had fought him more. If I had begged Stephanie to take me in? Hell. I should’ve done something.” I felt wild inside. I was still spinning. I couldn’t find a stronghold, but I looked at Nate. “I should’ve made him hate me, or at least not want me. I could’ve done that. Instead, I was the perfect daughter. I tried to be the perfect daughter, the perfect everything for him. What was I thinking? Why wasn’t I thinking?”
“Okay.” Nate made to stand.
“No.” I was the one to shove my chair back.
The room was dancing, round and round.
The river was with it.
The trees were one constant blur. They were going around me, and I was still spinning.
I was going to be sick.
“Why is this all coming out now?” a whisper from me.
Nate stood. I more heard him than saw him, and he walked around the table, touching my arm.
The touch was helping to steady me. Some of the spinning started to ease, but it was still going. It was moving at a slower pace.
I was going to fall.
I felt the crash coming.
I looked up as Nate drew even closer to me. I gulped. “I’m so sorry.”
His eyebrows pinched together. “For what?”
That answer was so simple. “For me.”
He stared at me, long and hard. I almost thought he was going to draw me into his arms, but he didn’t. His hand adjusted his hold on my arm. Then a flat tone came from him. “You’re being melodramatic. Get the fuck over yourself.”
26
Nate
Dinner was a disaster.
She was freaking. I didn’t think comforting her would help, so I went the opposite.
I might’ve chosen wrong.
After my words, she couldn’t function. I thought she would crumple, but she just swayed and replied to my questions with one or two words. She mumbled everything. By my fifth bite, I knew nothing could salvage the evening, so I asked for the bill, and we took the leftovers home.