35. Ivy
thirty-five
Ivy
Moments Later
I’m frozen.
What the fuck happened?
The reality of what my dad saw sinks in. He knows . Everything .
My mortification is overwhelming, making it hard to breathe or think. This is not how I wanted him to find out.
I’m snapped back to reality when Cillian takes my hand. “I’m going with you,” he says firmly, his eyes locking on to mine with determination. His support makes me feel slightly less panicked, but no less stressed.
“Um…I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for you to be there…” I look down at my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “I don’t want to make things worse for us. For you .”
I don’t voice my other fears—how my dad can only control his anger so long. How he’ll likely lash out and say anything to keep me in line, which will eviscerate all the progress we’ve made. Still, I’ll take it if it means he won’t turn this attention on Cillian. I want to protect him from my father’s dark, cruel side.
Cillian tilts my chin up until our eyes meet. “Ivy, I’m in love with you. We’re in this together. I’m not leaving you to handle this alone. We’ll own up to it and face him as a couple.” He kisses me tenderly. “You’re the most important thing in my life and I won’t let him tear us apart.”
Tears well up but I manage a small smile. “Okay.”
After we gather our things and lock up the office, Cillian and I get into my car. The drive is quiet, both of us lost in thought. The tension is thick, the last time I felt this anxious was three years ago when my dad got home early from his trip.
This is worse, though. Every mile closer, the atmosphere seems heavier .
When we get close to my neighborhood, I glance over at Cillian. His jaw is set with determination. What’s about to go down presses on both of us.
I coast through the private gate into Medina, the grand estates and manicured lawns lining the private golf course come into view. My house is secluded on a quiet, tree-lined street abutting the lake, but the tranquil surroundings are in stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. Cillian places his hand on my thigh and squeezes, but his sweet gesture does nothing to steady my racing heart.
Being away gave me a false sense of bravado. Until today, my relationship with Dad had improved dramatically. This house even started to feel like home again.
Now, on the long driveway to the parking strip, I’m gripped by the same old dread I used to feel every time I walked through the door. This house, once again, resembles the mausoleum it used to be in the years after my brother’s death. A prison my dad held me hostage in.
It’s ominous.
“Ivy, it’ll be okay. Remember, I’ve got you.” Cillian brings my hand to his lips and kisses it. “No matter what happens.”
I gaze at him and try to muster up courage I don’t feel. “Okay.”
Panic grips me the second we step through the front door, despite the familiar elegance of the house. I try to see it from Cillian’s perspective. The entryway is adorned with fine art and sculptures. French doors allow a ton of natural light to flood in. To the right, the dining room boasts a long, polished table ready for formal gatherings. The living room, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, offers a breathtaking view of the lake and the lush gardens outside. The air is thick with the scent of fresh flowers from the veranda.
Visually, it’s peaceful here. A stark contrast to the tension vibrating in the air.
“Dad?” I call out, my voice trembles with anxiety. “I’m here.”
“In the great room,” his voice booms, sending a shiver down my spine.
Cillian follows me down the hallway to the back of the house where we find him sitting in his favorite chair, a drink in his hand. A complete no-no with his medication, but what can I say?
His eyes are cold and unforgiving as he gives Cillian a contemptuous frown. “I see you had the audacity to show your face,” he sneers. “ Sit .”
Here we go.
We comply, taking a seat on the couch across from him. I feel like I’m suffocating under his stare, which goes on for what feels like ten minutes.
Finally, my dad’s eyes narrow on Cillian. “You have a lot of fucking nerve, you predatory piece of shit,” he snaps. “Sneaking around like a goddamn coward. Fucking my daughter, who’s half your age. You’re disgusting. You’re a disgrace. And you think it’s appropriate to come into my home uninvited ?”
“Dad, stop !” I plead. “You don’t know the whole story. Cillian and I are in love. Please, let us explain.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Ivy. It’s fucking ridiculous.” He cuts me off, returning his icy gaze on Cillian. “I trusted you with my business. Treated you like a son. And you repay me by screwing my daughter and pretending you give a shit about her? She’s only been back for a few weeks. What kind of thirty-something degenerate wants to get his dick wet with a barely twenty-one-year-old girl? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. You disgust me.”
My stomach drops to the floor. Every word from my dad hits me like a physical blow. My worst nightmare is unfolding before my eyes and the room feels like it’s closing in on me. My face burns with shame and embarrassment. I want to speak up, to defend Cillian, but I know how this type of conversation goes with my dad. There’s no getting a word in during one of these incidents.
I’m horrified, helpless, and powerless to protect the man I love from a relentless verbal onslaught.
“Mr. Bright, I—” Cillian attempts to speak.
“Shut the fuck up,” he barks. “And you ,” he rounds on me, his eyes burning with fury, “fucking one of my contractors like a common whore. Do you know how humiliating this is for me? For you ?”
Cillian leans forward, his protective stance clear even while seated. “I will not stand by and allow you to speak to Ivy this way.” His voice is low and controlled, but filled with conviction. “I love your daughter. No one will tear her down in my presence. Not even you.”
“ Love ?” Dad’s face contorts with rage. “You’re nothing but an alcoholic loser. You think I don’t know about your drinking problem? Think again . I won’t let you corrupt my daughter for one more minute.” He leans in closer in an attempt to intimidate Cillian. “You’re fired , effective immediately. Clear your shit off my jobsite by tomorrow and get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see your disgusting face again.”
Tears stream down my face. This is going off the rails. I try to interject, “No, Dad, please —”
“ Shut. The. Fuck. Up, ” my dad shouts at the top of his lungs. “I don’t want to hear anything from a whore like you. You’ll sleep with anyone who gives you the time of day. It’s an embarrassment.”
Cillian turns to me, devastated. His eyes are filled with a pain that mirrors my own. “Ivy,” his voice cracks, “I can’t stay if he’s asked me to leave. I don’t want to make things worse but I won’t leave you here with him like this. It’s not safe.”
His words send a fresh wave of panic through my body. My heart aches at the thought of him leaving, but the vitriol I’ll be subjected to without witnesses terrifies me even more.
“ Safe ? Who the fuck are you to tell me how to take care of my own daughter? If you think I’ll allow you to waltz out of here with Ivy, you’re delusional.” My dad’s face contorts into a menacing snarl. “She stays here with her family.”
I stand, my voice wobbly but resolute. “No. I’m not a child anymore. I make my own decisions. I love Cillian and I want to be with him. You can’t keep me here like a prisoner anymore. This is my life and I can choose who I want to be with.”
“You slut ,” my father spews. “I should have never let your mother take you to Italy on my fucking dime. I knew you couldn’t be trusted.
My knees buckle and I feel the blood drain from my face. How could my dad speak to me like this? It’s like he’s saved up three years’ worth of pent-up anger and is unleashing it all on me now. Does he really think so little of his own daughter?
The room spins, and I’m on the verge of fainting from the sheer mortification and pain of his words. Cillian’s reaction is swift. Protective. He stands and scoops me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing. I cling to him, my tears soaking his shirt. He carries me toward the front door with purposeful strides with my father’s hateful words echoing in my ears .
“ Get out , both of you! You’re dead to me, Ivy! You hear me? DEAD ! You won’t get a dime from me.” His words slice through the air and cut my heart in two as we reach the front door.
I hear a thud behind us and manage to glance over Cillian’s shoulder. My father has collapsed to the floor. “ Dad !”
“Call or text 9-1-1 then call your mom.” Cillian flicks his gaze to where my dad lies moaning. “I need to get you away from him after what happened, but we can’t let him lie there. He needs help.”
His grip tightens and he carries me out of the house to the car where he places me gently in the passenger seat then gets in beside me. My hands are shaking uncontrollably. I manage to pull out my phone and dial 9-1-1, explaining the situation as best as I can. “Please, my father has cancer. He was drinking. I think it interfered with his medication and he collapsed.” I give them the address. “Send someone fast.”
Once the operator assures me help is on the way, I dial my mom’s number. It takes a few rings before she answers. “Mom, where are you? I had a horrible fight with Dad and he fell down. I called for an ambulance, it’s on the way.”
“I’m next door at my book club, I’ll be right over.” She sounds frightened and I hear her mumble something to the ladies as she leaves.
Cillian takes the phone from my trembling hand. “Mrs. Bright, this is Cillian McLoughlin.” He keeps his voice calm, though his knuckles are white against the steering wheel. “This might come as a shock, but your daughter, Ivy, and I have been seeing each other. Stan found out today. It didn’t go well.” He takes a deep breath as he listens to whatever my mom is saying before answering. “He got worked up and said some unforgivable things to your daughter. He kicked us out of the house and we were on our way out when he collapsed. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, less than a minute ago. No, he’s breathing. He’s alive.” He stops as my mom speaks. “Yeah, that’s correct. Ivy called 9-1-1. We’re in the driveway and won’t leave until you or the ambulance gets here. Then I’m taking Ivy to my place. She can’t go back inside after the abuse he hurled at her.”
Cillian keeps the phone out until my mom scurries into the house, glancing at us with a quick, frantic wave before disappearing inside.
Everything is blurry. I’m vaguely aware of a siren and Cillian backing up the car and driving away as the ambulance pulls in. I’m more focused on his hand, which rests on my thigh. His touch keeps me from slipping into some sort of fugue state.
All of a sudden, I can’t hold it in any longer. I curl into a ball and sob and sob and sob. My body shakes uncontrollably.
The secret about my dad’s dark side is out.
And now, I can never go back home.