Chapter 35
I’M NOT HER
JOEY
Glitter by Nicolina
Ishove the Jeep door open and Dad is already pushing through the screen door, his jaw set, crossing the yard in long, purposeful strides.
Erin must have called him.
I climb out and approach him. “Did you know?”
He doesn’t ask what I mean. His jaw tightens, and a guarded look shutters behind his eyes.
“Yes.”
“How long?” I step closer.
“Since he was diagnosed,” Dad says quietly.
“You knew this whole time,” I say, my voice tight. “And you never said anything to me.”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell. It was his.”
“Did you scare him away? After your talk at the fence, did you tell him to stay away from me because you think he’s damaged? Because you don’t want your daughter with someone who’s broken?”
Dad’s jaw tightens. A muscle twitches beneath his cheek. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” I almost laugh. “You want to talk about fair? Jesse has been fighting this for years and instead of supporting him, you made him feel like he wasn’t good enough for me.”
“I never said that.” He holds my gaze. “I asked him to tell you, Joey. And he didn’t.” Dad drags a hand through his graying hair. “You don’t understand, Joey.”
“Then explain it to me.” I move toward him, standing toe to toe with the man who taught me to ride, to trust, to love fiercely. “Explain why you’d rather I spend my life without the person I love than be with someone who has a mental illness.”
“Because I’ve seen what it does.” Dad’s voice drops, rough with old grief.
“I was there when Jack’s addiction nearly destroyed everything.
Our friendship. The band. People we loved.
” His jaw tightens. “Bipolar isn’t addiction, but it’s still something that doesn’t go away.
Jack’s been sober for over twenty-five years, and you think Erin doesn’t still watch him?
Doesn’t notice every mood shift, or every late night?
” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t end, Joey.
And I don’t want that life for you. Constantly worried.
Watching for signs. Loving someone who’s not always going to be there even when he’s standing right in front of you. ”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.” His eyes meet mine, and there it is.
The tightness around his mouth, the way his hands grip the fence rail beside him like he’s bracing for a blow.
“You deserve normal. Happy. A life where you’re not constantly worried about the person you love, wondering if today’s a good day or a bad day.
Wondering if they’ll spiral and you won’t be able to catch them. ”
“Jesse isn’t Jack.” I straighten, my chin lifting. “He has people around him. He’s not alone in this.”
“And you think that makes it easy?” Dad steps closer, the cords in his neck tight.
“You saw what it did to him today, Joey. You saw what it looks like when he goes somewhere you can’t follow.
That’s not a one-time thing. That will happen again.
And again. Are you ready for that? To watch the person you love disappear into himself and not be able to pull him back? ”
“I pulled him back today.”
“His father pulled him back,” Dad says, his voice softer now.
“You called for help. And thank God you did, but what happens next time? What happens when you’re alone with him and he won’t get up, won’t talk, won’t eat?
I don’t want that for you, Joey. I don’t want you to spend your life taking care of someone else. ”
“That’s not your choice to make,” I say, quieter now.
“He grew up in this house, Dad. He ate dinner at our table. You taught him how to throw a football.” My voice thickens but I push through it.
“He loved you. And you knew what he was going through, and instead of making him feel safe, you made him feel like there was something wrong with him.”
“It’s not that simple,” Dad says, his voice rough.
“It is to me.”
Except it isn’t. Not really. I’m standing in this driveway defending a man who shattered me on a beach yesterday, and I can hold both of those truths at the same time, that I love him and that he broke my heart, but I can’t make sense of them yet. I don’t know when I will.
“I’m in love with him, Dad.” The words come out steady even though nothing inside me is. “And I’m not going to stop because it scares you.”
“Dammit, Joey.” He turns away, pacing a few steps before spinning back to face me. “Do you hear yourself? You’re twenty years old. You have your whole life ahead of you. You could have anyone, someone without all this baggage, someone who doesn’t come with warning labels.”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
“You haven’t even looked.” His voice cracks with frustration. “You’ve been in love with Jesse since you were a kid. You’ve never given yourself the chance to want something easier. Something that doesn’t require you to be someone’s caretaker.”
My throat tightens and I have to look away.
“That’s not what this is.”
“I’ve watched it, Joey. I’ve watched people destroy themselves loving someone they couldn’t save.”
His voice breaks on the last word and something shifts in his face.
He’s not arguing anymore. He’s somewhere else entirely, standing in a memory I’m not part of, and for a half second I see the shape of whatever it cost him to stand beside Jack through the worst of it.
To watch someone he loved self-destruct and be powerless to stop it.
To live through that and wonder if his daughter was walking into the same life.
“Stop projecting your past onto me,” I say, shaking but holding my ground. “Whatever ghost from your past you’re seeing when you look at me right now, I’m not her.”
Dad flinches like I’ve slapped him, and for the first time in my life, I watch my father bend under the weight of his own history.
I walk past him toward the house.
The screen door swings shut behind me. The kitchen is dark and I don’t turn on the light. I walk straight through to my bedroom, kick off my boots, and crawl under the covers with my clothes still on.
I sink down onto the mattress. Every limb feels heavy, every joint stiff, and the quiet settles around me in a way that isn’t peaceful, it’s the absence of everything I’ve been holding up for days.
I close my eyes and let it swallow me whole.