24. Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Dallas
I t’s almost comical as I watch this woman with such a beautiful voice walk back and sit down with my father of all people. A once-perfect night, soiled by his presence, yet again. As much as I’d like to go over there and tell him off, I don’t know what I would say. Surely it would come out like word vomit, I’d say something I regret, or maybe not with how upset I still am with him, and then it would be my fault for ruining the night. Instead, I force myself to bite my tongue, turn back toward the stage, and watch the next performance.
I see Abby peering at me out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore her, not wanting my frustration to come out on her. She places a hand on my arm and softly strokes a thumb back and forth, soothing some of the anger. If there’s one thing she and I both understand, or maybe we’ve learned from each other, it’s that words don’t always help. Sometimes, silence and proximity to someone we care about are exactly what we need.
She rests her head on my shoulder, another offer of support that I’ll gladly take. As each song ends, she doesn’t bother lifting her head when she claps. Before long, my fiery nerves have mostly settled enough for me to almost forget that my dad and the lady he’s with, his date, are back there. Almost. The word date feels foul in my head, and I’m sure it would taste sour on my tongue if I were to say it out loud.
I don’t think Rose realizes he’s here. If she has, she’s not showing any anger or sadness. I’ll let her have that for as long as possible. If we’re lucky, we may leave here without being seen. Although, with how skinny this building is, unless he leaves first, Rose will surely see him when we pass.
As hard as I try to forget he’s back there, it’s impossible to completely ignore. His mere presence puts me on edge. After a few songs, I peek back to see if they’ve left.
I should have kept my head forward.
My dad and I lock eyes, and his once smiling face falls flat. He’s not upset. Embarrassed maybe? Or ashamed? That’s probably wishful thinking. He’s likely more upset that this is how I’m finding out he’s still dating. Sitting and thinking about why he does what he does is only going to piss me off more. So, I turn my head back and pretend to listen to whatever pop song a group of college girls are singing. Abby squeezes my arm before continuing to rub numbing circles on my hand.
When the song comes to an end and a hand touches my shoulder, I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. My body tenses. I’d hoped he’d get the hint that I didn’t want to talk to him. Or maybe he did but didn’t care.
“Dal?” he says from behind me.
Our whole group turns toward him. Rose’s eyes widen, and she lets go of Meredith’s hand. Meredith looks confused. Logan looks annoyed. Abby clings to my hand softly even though my grip on hers is tight.
I clench my jaw shut to keep from saying something I’ll regret, more for Rose’s sake than our dad's. When I turn around, he’s standing behind me a few steps, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his slacks, the other holding the hand of the strawberry blonde behind him. She’s almost as tall as him in her black stilettos. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“Not here,” I snap. I lean into Abby’s ear and whisper in the calmest tone I can manage, “Please, stay here. I’m going to talk to him outside.”
Her brows twist. “It’s pouring.”
“Just … please stay here.” I squeeze her hand before standing and heading for the door, shoving past the over-full bar. I don’t know what kind of discussion or fight this will turn into, and I don’t want her to see me angry if I can avoid it.
I don’t turn around to see if he’s following. Thankfully, there’s an overhang above the entrance of the bank next door, shielding me from most of the rain that’s now coming down in sheets. The wind has picked up, making it impossible to hide from all of it. My shoes are just going to get wet. It doesn’t take long for him to peek his head out the front door of the bar. He scans the empty sidewalk to see where I went. When he spots me, leaning against the white-painted brick, he jogs to join me under the awning that looks like it might give out in this wind.
Thank God he's alone. I don’t know what I would have done if he had brought her out here, too. I wait for him to speak. He leans back against the brick on the other side of the entrance, zipping up his coat the rest of the way. He seems to take a long moment to consider his words carefully.
“I’m … I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” he finally says.
All I can do is snort.
“I didn’t know how to bring it up. And I never see you anymore.”
My brows instantly shoot up. “And that’s my fault?”
“Relationships are a two-way street, Dal.”
I snort again. “Not this one.”
He pushes off the wall. “Yes, this one. You’re still my son.”
I shake my head as the anger snaps into place, and I can’t hold back the floodgate of words anymore. “That’s just it. I’m your son. You’re the parent. It’s not my job to be the one who reaches out all the time, especially after what you’ve done. You’re the one at fault here. Not Mom, not Rose, not me. You. And did you really expect me to reach out after finding out you cheated? I couldn’t care less if ‘it just happened’ and you ‘couldn’t control it’ because that’s bullshit. You knew exactly what was happening. You had every chance to stop it, every chance to change your mind, every chance to turn around and return to your family. Remember us?” I beat my fist against my chest. “ We were your family.”
He’s taken a step back, hands stuffed in his pockets. He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold a hand up.
“I’m not done.”
He snaps his mouth shut and nods, letting me continue.
“And now, you expect me to just be okay with it? And Rose? Are you fucking kidding me? We were already falling apart after Cole died. And you tore this family to shreds, Dad. Utter pieces. And then what did you do? Nothing. Not a damn thing. You went on your merry way, literally fucking your way through, while the rest of us got left behind.”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” he hisses, taking a large step forward and pointing a finger at me.
“Or what? Can’t get much worse.” I can’t help the small smirk that rises to my lips when he lowers his hand. He doesn’t say another word, doesn’t have anything to add, to come back with. Winning wasn’t my intention here. I just wanted him to finally hear me, to understand where I’m coming from, to understand what his actions have led to and felt like.
I don’t know how long Rose has been standing at the entrance of the bar, peeking her head around to listen, but I can see the tears in her eyes. I don’t know if she wants to come over here or if she’d rather he not know she’s there, so I take a deep breath and hang my head.
“This was never my intention,” he says after a moment of rainy silence.
Large drops pound on the awning, threatening to break through. The streets light up with a bright flash of lightning. A crack of thunder shakes the earth.
“You keep saying that. That it was all an accident. That you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. You know what you could have done? Stopped it. You know what you haven’t done? Taken full responsibility for it,” I say matter-of-factly. I cross my arms, leaning back against the brick again. I don’t feel like I’ve won anything. There’s no winning any of this.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is so low I almost miss it.
“It’s a little late for that. You realize you’re still fucking married right? Or have you already forgotten that part of your life?”
He looks up with pain in his eyes. Just as he’s about to say something, the woman he’s with tonight strolls out from the bar and cautiously approaches us, shielding her face from the rain with a hand.
I can’t hide the eye roll, the clenched jaw, the tight fists, any of it. It’s turning into an automatic reaction to him at this point.
She wraps her hand around his elbow and places the other on his forearm. Then she smiles like she didn’t just walk past his daughter and interrupt our conversation. Or rather our fight to be exact. Surely, she knows about us, right?
My dad pastes a smile on his face, too. “Uh, Dal, this is Caroline. Caroline, this is Dallas, my oldest."
I can't even force myself to shake her hand when she offers. She lets it awkwardly hang in the air for a few seconds before drawing it back with a weak smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says. Her voice is exactly what I expected after hearing her sing: slightly high-pitched with a bit of a nasal resonance. “I’ve heard a lot about you and your sister.”
I ignore her comment and ask the only thing on my mind. “Did she know?”
Two lines form between my dad's drawn brows. “Know what?”
“That you were married. That you have kids. That you have … had,” I correct with a shake of my head, “a family.”
He takes a deep breath and swallows. Even Caroline seems taken aback by that. And then he nods slowly and says, “I still have a family, Dallas.” He watches me, but I don’t care about anything other than his answer. He sighs. “Yes.”
That’s all I need to know about her.
I throw my hands up like I’m surprised, but I don’t think I am. I walk past them toward Rose, not caring how soaked I get from the rain. I force myself to keep walking when I see Abby, hiding behind Rose, their hands tightly wound together. I barely catch the look in her eyes when I pass, but she’s not hiding her sympathy. It’s not sympathy I want. From anyone. I want my father to understand just how badly he’s ruining—no, already destroyed—the lives of his family.
I storm through the crowds to where Logan and Meredith now sit next to each other. They abruptly stop talking when I approach. They watch me carefully as I brace my arms on the back of my chair, contemplating my next move. I look back toward the door where Rose and Abby stand, watching me, clearly trying to keep their distance. My dad and his girlfriend must have left because I haven’t seen them reenter. Good. Meredith wanted to have a fun night out. Everyone else was having fun, too. I should try to enjoy the night as well.
You know what? Fuck it.
I head to the bar top before I change my mind and flag down the bartender. “Jack and Coke, make it a double.”
Someone says my name. A girl. I can’t tell if it’s Rose or Abby over the loud singing, but a hint of disappointment laces that single word. I force myself to ignore it and down the first drink, fighting past the burn of the liquor and carbonation.
“Get me another.” I pass my empty glass to the bartender, who eyes me critically but makes me another, only a single this time. I return to the table with my drink in hand.
Logan notices the drink and colored straws that indicate an alcoholic drink, immediately. The bartender put three straws in mine like he’ll need to keep an eye on which drink is mine for later. Logan raises a brow as I take a sip, the taste of alcohol somehow hitting me harder with this drink than the last. When you haven’t tasted alcohol for over a year, you seriously notice how strong the taste is. I ignore the sting of the whiskey and force it down.
“Um, I’m not one to shame people for their drinking habits, but are you sure you want to do this?” Logan says, leaning forward, voice low.
Abby and Rose hesitantly approach the table and take their seats, both still staring at me with pained expressions. I ignore Logan’s comment and down half of my drink. I’m fully aware this is the wrong way to deal with what just happened, but I need a night. Just one night where I don’t feel like everything is caving in. One night where I can let go of everything.
“Dallas,” Logan starts with a warning edge to his voice. Abby places a hand on my arm. “You need to slow down.”
I take a deep breath, pushing past the burn in my throat. “Just … let me have this. Just once.”
"Once? Really? You and I both know this isn't just once." Logan shakes his head but sits back in his chair, seeming to cave at my plea.
Abby doesn’t, though. She glances at Logan with a puzzled look, then tips her head, searching for my eyes, but I won’t meet them. I can’t. I’m already ashamed that I gave up my sobriety for that asshole. But what’s done is done. No reason to stop now.
Abby tugs on my arm, and I finally let myself look at her. Bad idea. Her entire calm, happy composure from the day is broken. She frowns, brows drawn together. She looks at my almost empty glass. “Is drinking really how you want to handle this?”
I tighten my fists before holding them up in frustration. “Can everyone let me have one night to relax?” I don’t look at anyone, not wanting to see their reaction to my outburst. Out of my peripheral, everyone physically backs off, leaning back in their chairs.
Everyone except Abby. “Dal, please.”
Those pleading words should send me spiraling, make me snap back to my usual self, make me realize exactly what I’m doing, and they almost do. Instead, I push my chair back and head back to the bar. When I return with my third drink, I take a long swig before sitting down. Everyone still watches me cautiously. Rose is still slightly teary-eyed as Meredith tries to silently comfort her. Logan looks more annoyed than anything, or maybe disappointed.
Sure. Add to the list of people I can piss off tonight.