17. Ivy
seventeen
Ivy
Same Day Different Perspective
My entire world has fallen apart.
Exploded into sharp, piercing shards of agony.
I can barely breathe from my heartache. My eyes are puffy from crying for three solid days. Every muscle in my body is tense and sore.
The morning I got his texts, I prepared myself for my dad’s disappointment. Anger, even. All of it a given. Oh, I really had no comprehension of his wrath. For the past seventy- two hours, give or take, he’s screamed and yelled at me and called me every name in the book.
I know I fucked up. I’ve lied to my parents. I’ve lied to Cillian. I’m not proud of it. I know I deserve for everyone I care about to be furious with me.
I also understand how scared he was when he called Emma’s parents to find out I hadn’t spent even one night there. Then I didn’t answer his texts or calls for twelve hours.
But…did it give him the right to cut me to the bone? I can’t take any more.
This morning, I thought it was finally over when he asked me to go into the office with him.
But, no. Today, it’s the silent treatment.
The engine of his two-tone silver Maybach Sedan purrs quietly as we glide through the city streets. My father’s presence looms beside me, a towering figure of authority. Emotionally drained, I’m sitting as far from him as possible in the backseat, pressing my forehead against the cool glass window. Trying to be invisible. The last thing I need is to trigger him, so it’s best I keep a low profile.
For now he’s quiet, but the silence is thick and suffocating. I’m scared he’ll come at me any minute now. It’s been relentless .
Like the loyal employee he is, our driver, Louis, says nothing. His eyes remain fixed on the road ahead. He’s paid to remain oblivious. Discreet.
Fifteen minutes in, it begins.
“Ivy.” My dad’s voice is a low growl. “This is getting ridiculous. You’re going to tell me everything. I demand it. Where the fuck were you?”
As stubborn and determined as my father is? I’m tenfold. I keep my gaze fixed on the passing scenery and my mouth shut. I won’t tell him anything about the past few perfect weeks. The happiest of my life.
And, I won’t ever betray Cillian.
“ Answer me!“ He slams his hand against the leather seat. “I’m fucking serious .”
The sudden noise makes me flinch but I refuse to look at him. No way. He’s not getting the satisfaction. “I told you I was with a friend. The rest isn’t your business. You treat me like I’m your slave. You call me names and try to break my spirit. It’s bullshit.”
“ Bullshit ?” he scoffs. “Do you think I’m a fucking idiot? I trusted you to follow the rules and you didn’t stay at home one goddamn night. You’re behaving like a low-class whore. Who is he? Who were you fucking all summer ?”
Tears sting my eyes. What kind of father slut-shames his daughter, who’s always been perfect and obedient? My heart pounds like thunder in my chest. I never wanted to hurt my dad, but he’s been hurting me for years. Cillian is my everything. If my dad finds out who he is, he’ll destroy the man I love more than anything in this world.
I’ll do everything in my power to protect him, even if means being on the brunt end of horrific verbal abuse.
My voice trembles despite my efforts to keep my cool. “I told you the truth. I needed to do my own thing and make my own decisions. I was always safe.”
“ Safe ?“ His voice drips with sarcasm. “You were off doing God knows what with God knows who. Were you on drugs? Drinking? I know you were fucking someone, Hilde showed me his fucking underwear .”
Shit. I forgot I wore Cillian’s T-shirt and boxers home after our first night together. Rookie mistake.
“No. Of course not.” I dig my nails into my thigh. “You can’t control me forever. I’m an adult. Do not treat me like a child.”
“I’ll be the judge of how to treat you as long as you’re living under my roof.” His bitter laugh is harsh. Cruel. “You’re treated like a child because you’re acting like a child. And I can and will take back control. For your own good.”
It’s no use. He doesn’t understand and doesn’t care about what I want or need. He never has. All he cares about is keeping me under his thumb.
“I’ve told you I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” My words are hollow because I feel hollow.
“But you did .“ He punches his fist. “For the next five weeks, you’re coming to work with me every day. You’re not leaving the house without my permission. And, I’ll have someone watching you 24/7 at Stanford. You cannot be trusted.”
“ What ?” Panic permeates every pore. I whirl around to see if he’s serious. “No. You wouldn’t go that far.”
He picks up the old-school Wall Street Journal newspaper from the seat. “You bet your fucking ass I will. You’ll thank me one day.”
“I’ll never thank you for this.” I can’t stop the tears this time. “You’re ruining my life. Taking away everything that matters to me.”
He glares at me, his expression hard. “Why don’t you tell me who the guy is. What kid had the audacity to touch my little girl? Defile her innocence. You’re so na?ve. You’re being used. .”
“How can you jump to such a crass conclusion? And even if it were true—which it isn’t—if you’d let me live my own life, I wouldn’t be so fucking na?ve.” My hands clench into fists. “You’d trust me.”
“Oh, that’s rich. I gave you my trust and you pissed all over it.” He points at me. “Tell me, did you take the pregnancy test I left for you?”
I stare at him, unable to comprehend the invasion of my privacy. Has our relationship come to this? “You’re unbelievable. Do you hear yourself?”
He glowers at me but doesn’t utter a word. I know this tactic, he’s taught me all of his negotiation skills. Stay mute until the enemy breaks. The silence between us stretches, a chasm which is rapidly becoming too wide to bridge.
“Dad, please .” I finally crack, no match for his years of honed experience. “You can’t keep me in a cage. I deserve to live my own life out from under your thumb. To make my own mistakes.”
“You’ve made enough mistakes in seven weeks to last a lifetime.” He lowers his reading glasses to peer at me through slitted eyes. “I know you better than you know yourself. You might as well settle in, the restrictions are the consequences of your own actions.”
“ Know me ?” I dab the tears from my cheeks. “You’ve never known me. You don’t even see me. You see Forrest. You’re trying to protect a fucking ghost .”
My cruel words hang in the air, a sharp but painful truth. I hate myself for sinking to my father’s level, but I swear I see a flicker of something. Pain. Regret. Who knows, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. My dad’s face hardens, and he looks away .
Lying back against the seat, I squeeze my eyes shut. I need Cillian. I have to find a way back to him. To the beautiful life we were creating. He’s the only thing that makes sense anymore. Our relationship is the only thing I care about. God, the thought of him worrying about me. Wondering where I am. It rips my heart out.
He’ll probably never be able to find me, I realize. He might know the house is in Medina but he doesn’t know my real name. I destroyed my phone so my dad couldn’t track our conversations. What must he think? I disappeared. Does he think I didn’t care enough to say goodbye?
God, maybe my dad has me pegged. I’m immature. Selfish. Impulsive.
A liar.
Before this summer, I’d never been untruthful, at least not deliberately. In the past few weeks, I’ve lied to everyone who’s important in my life. My lies are the reason I’m living in this hellish reality of isolation, heartbreak and emotional abuse.
No matter what my reasoning, what I did was wrong.
The car pulls up to the headquarters of Bright Shipping, a well-worn building my grandfather built seventy years ago. I’ve loved coming here from the time I was a girl. Today hits different. I don’t want to be trapped anymore. Controlled. Monitored.
Dread settles in my stomach.
Then, I make a silent vow to myself. I’m breaking free from my father’s control. I have to, even if it means giving up everything I’ve ever known.
My father turns to me. “This is an important meeting. I expect you to behave like a professional in there, Ivy. It’s time to table this immature bullshit. No more trouble.”
I nod numbly, unable to find the words to argue. What’s the point? Regardless of the situation I’ve put myself in, I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize our family business. My father strides ahead, his presence commanding respect and attention from the hustling, bustling employees. I trail behind, feeling small and insignificant in the shadow of his power.
The elevator up to the top floor is filled with cold, silent tension. Once again, I follow Dad toward his office. Before we step inside, he turns to me. “The contractor we choose today will be responsible for transforming this space into a modern, green technology port, increasing our profits by thirty percent. I need you to be focused. I want your opinion on this company.”
It’s ironic how much he trusts my business acumen but not anything relating to my own life choices.
At this point, we’re running a few minutes late, but my dad never rushes. Everyone adjusts to his schedule, and he knows it. We reach the conference room, he hands me a presentation folder and opens the door. I glance down and freeze.
This can’t be true. It’s impossible .
The McGloughlin Construction logo is embossed at the top of the proposal.
Cillian’s company.
My mind reels as I take my place next to my dad. Instinctively, I glance up and see the man I love looking at me in shock, though he’s trying to keep his composure. I try to communicate to him with my eyes. Tell him not to give himself away. He stares back at me, processing. A myriad of emotions flash in his eyes. Surprise followed by hope. Then pain. Confusion.
Devastation. Utter and total devastation.
Because of me.
“Cillian, this is my daughter, Ivy.” Dad places his hand on my back and I can’t help but flinch. I fix some sort of smile on my face until I hear him say, “She’s only eighteen, but finished high school and her business degree this year. I’m proud to say, she’ll attend Stanford Business School this fall to further her education before she takes her executive role at Bright Shipping.”
I didn’t think my life could get worse. I was wrong.
I stare at Cillian, horrified he’s finding out my biggest secret this way.
The look on his face might be unreadable to the room, but I’ve stared into those hazel eyes for hours. I know this man. He looks away, trying to hide his disgust for me after he learns the truth. I know what I’ve done is irreparable. He finally realizes how completely I’ve deceived him.
There’s no going back to the way things were.
I feel like I’m going to faint.