Chapter 43
Fact or Fiction?
I’ve always been a daddy’s girl.
Addison
“My God, Addie May. You really do look like a princess,” my dad says as I step out of the spare bedroom at Luke’s to find
him standing in my kitchen nibbling on a piece of bread.
I force a wobbly smile as I look down at my dress. It’s a simple satin long-sleeve gown that’s a mermaid fit so it’s tight
around my hips and bottom. It has a boat neckline and a long row of silver buttons down the backside all the way through the
train. It’s simple and I remember the day I tried it on, feeling like I’d never felt more beautiful in my life.
Today, I feel ambivalent about it.
I thought my run at the cemetery this morning would help me collect my thoughts, but it didn’t. I feel just as wretched about
my plan now as I did last night when I presented it to Luke. Not even a conversation with my brother, Aaron, could help bring
me any sense of peace over all of this.
“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble back, unable to look him in the eyes because I know if I do, I’m going to start a fight with him.
I’m going to scream at him for letting me believe that getting married and having a big, traditional wedding was how I’d get
the lumberyard handed over to me when all along, he had buyers lined up to take it over.
This is just another betrayal.
He has no faith in me, and he clearly never has. So why the fuck did he suggest I marry someone for something he’s taking away from me anyway?
I’m so fucking sick of losing in life. I’m so fucking sick of the people who are supposed to love me in my life doing nothing
but hurt me.
“That blonde girl popped in and gave me a ten-minute warning so . . .”
I nod and stare at the bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus. It’s modern and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before and under
normal circumstances, I would be so excited about it.
These aren’t normal circumstances.
“Let’s head out and see if we can start early,” I say, making my way to the door.
“Hey,” my dad calls out, but I ignore him. “Hey,” he barks more forcefully. “What is your problem? This is your wedding day,
and you look like you’re going to a funeral.”
I bark out a dry laugh at the audacity of that statement. But in many ways, I feel like I am going to a funeral. My own. “Let’s
just get this over with.”
“This is not how a blushing bride should be on her wedding day,” Dad says, running a finger over his mustache. “If you don’t
want to get married, you shouldn’t be walking down that aisle.”
“You’re pushing me down that aisle,” I bite back.
“The hell I am.” His face is the picture of offended.
“You’re right actually,” I reply with a laugh. “This has nothing to do with you anymore because I already know you’re going
to do what you want with the yard regardless of whether I get married today or not.”
“So, he told you, then?” my dad huffs back and shakes his head. “That boy’s timing needs some work.” He frowns curiously back
at me. “If you already know I’m selling the yard, then why are you going through all this?”
“I’m doing this for Luke’s mom and everyone else sitting out there who worked so hard to make me feel loved and included .
. . and worthy—” My voice cracks as I clutch my belly, trying to control my emotions.
“Some of those people haven’t spent months lying to me, so I’m not about to let them down. Let’s please just get on with this.”
“Ads,” my dad barks.
“What?” I snarl back, turning my head to look at the man who raised me.
His eyes swim with pain before he shrugs and say, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” I ask, watching him closely.
He works his jaw from side to side and then whispers, “I’m sorry for being scared.”
The words are so simple and childlike, they sound strange coming from my dad. “What are you scared of?”
“Of losing you of course.” He harrumphs and walks around the island to sit down on a barstool. “I’m scared the yard could
be too much for you. It was too much for me and that’s why your mom left. I wasn’t around enough. Didn’t help enough. The
stress made me stay out drinking too much.” He splays his hand on the counter and stares down at the ground. “I never told
a single person this, but your mom called me for a ride home the night of the accident and I didn’t come. I was at the bar
with Chuck. I just . . . ignored her call and then . . . we lost Aaron.” His voice cracks as his face crumples, his body going
slack as he struggles to stay upright in his chair.
I stand stock-still, watching my dad lose it. I’ve never seen him lose it in my whole life. Not even at Aaron’s funeral.
Like a volcano erupting uncontrollably now, he continues, “And then she went to prison, and I just kept at it like an ass.
Drinking and driving with you in the car. Jesus Christ, Ads. We donate money to that charity every year, and every year I
have to look those people in the eye and know what I did with you even after losing my son.”
My chin wobbles as I watch my dad unload years of guilt and bad decision-making. Things we never talk about, never acknowledge. Just exist knowing they happened.
“I don’t want you running the damn yard because I want better for you,” he croaks, his red eyes fierce on me. “I want you
to have a life outside of that dusty old place.”
“Dad.” I move over to stand in front of him, squatting so I can look up into his tortured downturned face. “I still can have
a life. And I’ll also never do what you and Mom did either. I refuse to be like that. I’m ridiculously disciplined when it
comes to my alcohol intake and my driving decisions afterward.”
“But what if you’re not?” he cries, his large frame slumped toward me. “What if the stress becomes too much?”
“Then I have Luke,” I reply, and gasp when I realize what just came out of my mouth so easily. So freely. So automatically.
Like a reflex.
I have Luke.
My best friend.
The man I love with every fiber of my being.
Except I don’t have him.
I pushed him away.
Because I’m afraid.
Just like my dad.
“Luke loves me,” I say the words out loud, knowing they’re true. “He’ll do anything to help me. Even marry me for a year so
I can inherit a business.”
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “I knew it was all bullshit.”
I sniff loudly. “Except at some point, it stopped being bullshit. At some point . . . it became real.” My eyes well with tears.
“I love him, Daddy.”
Pain crawls up my throat at that realization. Something that felt impossible to say yesterday. But I look at my dad, a hard, broken man, and I don’t want to be like him. I want to be like Luke. Loving and willing to do crazy shit for the people he loves.
“He’s one of the good ones,” I offer tearfully, my hands trembling as I grip my dad’s hands on his lap.
“You might be right.” He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “I don’t like to admit that, but I think it’s true.”
I garble out a laugh. “I’m afraid it’s one of those things that’s just true. Even when he screws up, he still somehow manages
to do it with good intentions.”
I stare down at the ground, hating that I’ve fumbled all of this so badly. We were good, happy, in love. We were perfect and
I let my own insecurities and fears push him away.
Sort of like how my dad is trying to push me away from the yard.
Like father, like daughter.
“Dad, I will admit you made some mistakes when I was growing up. But can I tell you one thing? I never doubted that you loved
me.”
His shoulders shake as he absorbs that statement. “Really?” he asks with a loud sniff.
“Yeah, it’s why I was taking this yard issue so hard. I can see now that you were coming from a good place, but you went about
it the wrong way.”
“I’ve been wrong once before.” His face splits open into a big, teasing smile.
I laugh with him and then sigh. “I’ve been wrong once before too.” I wipe at the tears falling down my face and swallow deeply.
I’ve been wrong to use the lumberyard as my hiding place from the world. I made it my whole identity because the words my
mother said to me as a child have stuck with me for far too long . . .
Sometimes the ones we love the most disappoint us the most.
It’s wrong of me to put those toxic words on Luke, who has done nothing to deserve them. If lying about loving me is the worst that man could do, I should be so lucky.
I want to be better than my parents. I don’t want to live in fear of disappointment. And maybe it’s naive of me, but I don’t
see how Luke could ever disappoint me enough to change how I feel about him.
I love him too much.
“You do what you have to do with the lumberyard,” I state firmly to my dad, wiping at my tears and knowing I’m going to have
to touch up my makeup. “I’ll be fine either way.”
“You sure about that?” my dad asks, and I glance outside to see the bridal party is starting to line up.
I nod firmly because at the end of the day, I can manage anything as long as I have my best friend beside me.
I shoot my dad a watery smile. “I’ll be fine as long as you get me down that aisle.”
My dad grabs my hands and stands up. “I got you, Addie May.”