Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
EMERSON
Two Months Later (Mid July)
The musical notes of “Lose Control” played through the outdoor speakers, and I groaned into my arms at the sound of Teddy Swims’ baritone voice. Why did I have this song on my playlist again?
Oh, that’s right! I’m a masochist!
Goosebumps littered my skin, and I debated whether masochism or avoidance would win out today. Some days I could stand the torture, relishing in the misery and heartbreak I felt every time I heard this song and remembered that night at the club. Other times, it felt like someone was stabbing me in my ears. I mostly avoided the song, which, of course, meant it played everywhere I went this summer.
Not that I’d gone to a lot of places.
Oak Hills wasn’t safe to explore, so I had to be strategic about where I went alone. Mostly, I traveled from my bedroom to the pool lounger that had become my second bed this summer. The crinkling of a wrapper emphasized my claim as I rolled off the large pool bed and stood. Pulling the shiny wrapper off my skin, I shielded my eyes from the sun and hobbled to the pool bar where my phone lay hooked to the speakers.
Skipping the song, I leaned against the bar and scanned my notifications. Taylor and the rest of our dance crew had texted me numerous times to ask when I’d be back at Brighton. The sense of dread I’d had since returning home surged, so I flipped my phone over and ignored them.
Avoidance for the win today!
Rubbing my temples, I groaned at the reminder of what my father had shared upon my arrival.
“I messed up, Pumpkin. I invested in something, and it didn’t pan out.”
Didn’t pan out was an understatement. We were broke. He’d lost almost everything .
His savings—gone.
His retirement—gone.
My college fund—gone.
The house, our cars, and a small trust I received when I turned twenty-five were the only things unscathed.
That was the day my father changed in my eyes. I no longer saw him as the perfect hero I’d always believed him to be, but a fallible human. I didn’t know which was worse—being broke or losing that image of my dad.
Maybe I was na?ve to still view my dad that way, but he was all I had. My mom had died from an aneurysm when I was thirteen. She was there one morning and gone the next. What had once been a vibrant and happy home became dull and broken.
My father and I were both quiet by nature, and without the liveliness of my mother, our world became two-dimensional. Neither of us knew how to fill the hole her death caused, and we fell into a haze of grief we were unable to get out of. Leaning on each other, we slowly crawled our way out of the grief hole.
In those early days, Dad would hold me while we cried together. Neither of us knew the right words to use, but that was the great thing about our relationship. We understood silence, and there were things you couldn’t say with words.
For me, that outlet was dance, and for my dad, it was cooking. While he was an investment banker by trade, his real passion was food and discovering new recipes and dishes. It had been what brought him and my mom together. She was a journalist with a weekly food critic column. So, while Mom brought words to life, we let our passions talk for us.
Most teenagers might hate spending time with their parents, but I didn’t. Dad and I spent Friday nights putting together jigsaw puzzles, Saturdays traversing Farmer’s Markets for new ingredients to try, and Sundays reading. The two of us were a unit. He was the only reason I’d survived high school—not that he knew about any of the bullying.
Choosing to attend Brighton University had been a shock to him. And honestly, if it hadn’t been for Hope, I wouldn’t have gone so far away for college. I’d even debated returning to Oak Hills and enduring Hope’s wrath after the first few weeks away, but Taylor convinced me to stick it out, and I eventually fell in love with Brighton.
It had been the right step for me, despite the difficulty. I’d needed that time and space away from Oak Hills, and perhaps even the safety net of my father. Having the chance to flourish and find my own path away from mean girls had strengthened my backbone.
The distance had been good for me, and I wouldn’t change it, but it meant Dad and I had grown apart—an unfortunate consequence to being so far away.
Guilt swarmed me for leaving him, quickly followed by anger that he’d been taken advantage of. Then, more anger that he’d fallen for something shady. Add sadness for missing a guy I had no right to miss and guilt for ignoring my friends, which ultimately led me straight back to anger.
Anger at Hope. Anger at my dad. Anger at the person who’d scammed him.
Anger at myself for never standing up.
God, I was sick of thinking about this.
With the song changed, I stumbled back to the pool lounger and face-planted. There were too many emotions to deal with, and I’d chosen avoidance today, so it was time to get back to that.
Doodling in a notebook, I hummed along to the music and kicked my feet to the beat. In these quiet moments alone, I could pretend everything was normal. That I was a college junior preparing to return to Brighton U in a month instead of having no clue where I’d attend. Or that the cute guy I couldn’t stop thinking about would text me instead of being the brother of the one person who made my life hell. But mostly, I pretended the man I’d always admired hadn’t ruined my life and abandoned me all summer.
Almost as if my thoughts had conjured him, my dad stepped through the sliding door and smiled at me. Dropping my pencil, I gaped at the man walking toward me and wondered if I’d stepped into a different dimension.
Long gone was the gaunt man with greasy hair I’d come home to. I’d barely seen my father since I’d returned home. Once he dropped his bomb on me, he’d basically vanished. I assumed his guilt had kept him away, making him work longer than usual to find a way out of this hole. Perhaps it was a useless wish, but it was the justification I used to assuage my guilt for not applying to any other colleges. I wanted my father to fix his mistake so I could return to my life.
However, in none of the scenarios I envisioned, had I expected this version of my father. His skin was golden, like he’d spent his entire summer by the pool—except it hadn’t been ours, since I’d taken up residence, and he’d been nowhere to be found.
His dark hair was shiny and lush, looking like he’d stepped out of an expensive salon and not the same ten-dollar haircut he’d gotten from his barber the past ten years.
Though, the most disturbing development was the clothes he now wore. His gaunt frame had returned to his lean and muscular stature, but instead of the dorky dad clothes he’d worn my whole life, he had on stylish clothes, dripping in labels. It wasn’t that I was against labels—most of the items in my closet were name-brand—but my dad had never cared. He’d worn whatever my mother had bought him, and there were a lot of amazing things about my mother, but style had never been one of them.
To see him dressed in clothes that were actually in fashion this season not only confused me, but also infuriated me. He chose now to care? When he couldn’t even pay for college?
Yes, I realized how entitled I sounded, but the self-loathing wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow.
“Dad?” My voice came out high-pitched, and I sat up, glancing at the wrinkled clothes I wore. My shirt was baggy, but the shorts were no longer decent to wear in public. I hadn’t done laundry in weeks, resulting in limited clean options. Not that I’d call these clean. How many days had I worn this combo? Was that a Cheetos stain or last night’s curry? Stopping myself from picking up the material and sniffing it, I focused on him.
“Emmy, I have news.” He clapped his hands together and smiled brightly at me, highlighting the laugh lines around his eyes and mouth I’d longed to see. I swallowed at the sight, tears pricking my eyes, and I barely contained the hope overwhelming me .
He’d fixed it. I didn’t have to change schools. Life could go back to normal.
“You look so good, Dad. I thought…” I shook my head, stopping the words. “Nevermind. I’m just so glad to see you looking better. I’ve missed you this summer, but I knew you were working hard to fix everything.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, grimacing at my words, and I frowned.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, Pumpkin. But I promise, everything is going to be better now. I found a solution.”
Throwing my arms around his neck, I let the tears fall at the news. He hugged me, rubbing my back in soothing strokes like he’d done when I was younger.
“Thank goodness. I didn’t want to attend anywhere but Brighton. It’s my school, and I love it there. Your absence is forgiven.”
His hand froze, his body tensing, and all the euphoria I felt at seeing him evaporated.
“Pumpkin, I…” he stuttered, pulling back to stare at me. His green eyes, so similar in shade to mine, bounced back and forth as he tried to formulate words.
“Darling, did you tell her?” a feminine voice asked over my father’s shoulder. I jolted back, chills erupting at the sight of a woman standing no more than ten feet from me. At my eye contact, she rushed over and wrapped her arm around my dad’s shoulder, sitting in his lap.
I gaped. What the hell? There was no way this was real.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Emmy? Oh, I can tell you’re excited! Your tears say it all.”
I wiped away the wetness, wishing I could step back through whatever portal I’d entered. This was not my life.
“I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her yet, honey.” My dad beamed at the woman, and my stomach sank.
No. No. No .
This could not be happening.
My dad was a good man and a great dad, and I could acknowledge that selfishly, I didn’t want to share him. It had been the two of us for so long, and I’d gotten used to it. I knew it was unfair to ask him to live out the rest of his days alone, and part of me knew this day would happen sooner or later.
But not like this. Not to her .
“Oh! Well, I’ll give you both a few minutes to talk. I’ll finish things in the kitchen.” She kissed my father, his eyes lighting up as he watched her walk away. His features shifted as he focused on me, and guilt hit me, not wanting to deny him happiness.
“I promise nothing will change between us, Pumpkin. You’ll always be my best girl. It’s just time to open our hearts to new people. I thought you’d be more excited about this.”
I bristled, wiping my face, and scooted back. All the times I’d kept my father in the dark were returning to haunt me. I hadn’t wanted to burden him, but if he knew the truth, would he be making the same choice?
My dad watched me, his eyes pleading with me to be okay with this, and I wasn’t strong enough to deny him. Swallowing, I lost another chunk of my heart. Soon there wouldn’t be anything left.
“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”
He immediately deflated, reaching out to grab my hands, and that was when I saw it: a simple gold band on his ring finger—the same one that had been bare for the past few years.
“Wait, what’s that?”
My dad grimaced, and I knew the hits weren’t done coming yet.
“Rose and I got married this morning. I know it’s sudden, but I haven’t felt this happy in years.” Ouch . “I messed up this past year, I know that, and this is how I’m fixing it. ”
“ By getting married ?” I screeched. “Exactly how does that work? You offer up your vintage vinyl collection as a dowry, or was it something else of mine?”
My father blanched at my words, and I wanted to hate myself for hurting him, but he’d put us in this situation. He’d gambled our money, and I had to pay the consequences.
“Things are improving financially.” Hope bloomed in my chest, and plans to stay at Brighton next summer formed. “However, you still won’t be returning to Brighton.” I opened my mouth to interject, but he stopped me. “Rose teaches at Hayward, and since we’re married, you’ll get free tuition along with her children.”
Jerking back at the word, my heart sank. How had I forgotten about Hope? The door opened, and my father turned, smiling like he’d won the lottery.
“Aw, there are my girls.”
Pain sliced through me at his words, but it had nothing on the malice and glee radiating from the tall, slender brunette beside Rose. Rose Adler—my new stepmom.
Which made Hope Adler my step sister.
Hope’s eyes dropped to my outfit, her sneer telling me exactly how she felt about my avoidance wear. Heart racing, I tried to think of the fastest way to escape. My house had been the only safe place in Oak Hills, and my dad had just given Rose and her children keys.
Hold. The. Phone.
Children .
As in more than one.
If Hope was here…
Then did that mean…
The dormant butterflies fluttered, their wings waking after months of rest at the renewed sense of hope.
Wait…
Fuck…
Then butterflies crashed back into the ground .
The guy I’d been obsessing over after spending the most perfect night with wasn’t just Hope’s brother. Nope, it also made him my step-brother.
The small amount of strength I’d gained over the past two years crumbled to smithereens.
Hope was a cruel bitch.