11. Lily
Lily
“ Y ou’re wallowing.”
“I’m not.”
Sasha looks critically at my scraggly, unwashed hair, the oversized hoodie and stained sweats. All the same clothes she saw me wearing yesterday.
I frown when she meets my stare, her expression saying more than words ever could. “I don’t wallow.”
Her brows lift disbelievingly as she glances at the tub of ice cream clutched in my hands and the empty pack, or three, of crisps littering the surface of the coffee table. “What do you call this, then?”
“I’m eating my feelings,” I grumble. “Leave me alone.” It’s her turn to frown as she clears a space on the coffee table, planting her ass right in front of me. “Do you mind? I’m watching this.”
She looks at the screen behind her. “Terminator?”
“Three,” I confirm, shoveling another spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into my mouth.
“That’s a choice, I guess.” She turns back to me, eyes widening. “Wait—” she leans forward and pinches the sleeve of my hoody, tugging on it. “I didn’t look too closely yesterday, just in case you turned me to stone. But tell me that’s not… ”
I curl backwards, yanking out of her grip, my voice defensive. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lily Foster, tell me that isn’t Voldemort’s hoodie.”
“The whole point is not saying his name,” I reason.
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t. I said He Who Shall Not Be Named’s name.”
I scrunch my face up into a confused frown. “That’s just confusing. Look, it’s getting to the good bit.” I point my spoon at the TV over her shoulder. “Could you?—”
“Leave you to wallow in your ex’s clothing? No, I won’t.” She huffs impatiently. “Lily, it’s been a week, and you’re allowed to feel whatever it is you’re feeling, but life doesn’t just pause because you’re hurting.” She gentles her tone, her eyes softening. “Your dad’s been blowing up my phone.”
“Has he?” I murmur. I’d blocked Voldemort’s number after his hundredth or so call, but I’d also started receiving lots of fun new messages from Silvia.
One day, it was just a picture of her and Declan sitting close to each other on a sofa, her hand on his knee.
The day after, it was a selfie of her in his office, eating lunch.
Declan had been in the background behind her, working at his desk.
But she hadn’t limited herself to sending just pictures.
Silvia: Don’t worry, Lily. I’m here to take care of him now.
Silvia: You did the right thing by walking away. He was never meant to be yours.
So, I’d kept the messages as evidence of… I don’t know. It seemed smart at the time. But then I’d blocked her as well and turned my phone off, and that had been three days ago.
“I sent Dad a message telling him I was okay.”
“And, clearly, he knows you’re not.” She moves, sitting next to me on the couch.
She turns the TV off despite my protests, tugs the ice cream out of my hands and sets it on the coffee table.
When she’s sure she has my full focus, she says, “I know you’re hurting, babe.
I can’t even imagine the kind of pain you’re in right now, but you can’t keep going on like this. ”
“I don’t see why not,” I argue petulantly, but she acts like I said nothing, talking right over me.
“You’ve apparently started boycotting my perfectly good shower?—”
“The pressure could be better,” I mumble.
“—and your dad is losing his mind. I don’t want you to think I’m exaggerating here, Lily. I’m pretty sure he’s about to hire a team of mercenaries to kidnap you and get you to talk.” She gives me a pointed look. “By any means necessary.”
“My dad wouldn’t torture me,” I argue, but then think about it. “Maybe emotionally, but only a little.” Nothing was worse than a parental guilt trip.
Sasha’s expression doesn’t change, her eyes taking on an almost dangerous glint, and I throw my hands up. “Fine! I’ll go see him.” That glint fades into smugness and I point a finger in her face. “I still wasn’t wallowing.”
She quirks one brow up. “Hope you shower before you go,” she says, and then gives an exaggerated sniff and cringes.
Bitch .
Three hours later, I’m in the kitchen of my childhood home, pouring the whole sorry story out to Julie. She’s cooking dinner, making sympathetic noises as she listens, and every now and again muttering asshole under her breath.
Swear to god, every time she curses, I get a little giddy.
I end on how I’ve basically cloistered myself in Sasha’s apartment, and she looks up from the stove. The scent of her chicken fried rice makes my mouth water. Not surprising my body would crave something substantial after eating junk all week.
“So, what’re you going to do?” she asks.
I shrug, picking at my nails. “Tell Dad, I guess. Other than that, I don’t know.”
“He won’t be happy, you know.”
“I know,” I say miserably. “I should never have—” I shake my head, blowing out a breath of frustration. “I shouldn’t have held my tongue. I should’ve told him the night I came back. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have gone through with the sale. If I’d known about it…”
After fiddling with the dial on the stovetop, she turns to face me, giving me her full attention. “That wasn’t what I meant, but I’m curious why you didn’t tell him the night you got back.”
“Wait, what did you mean then?” I raise my head, sending her a puzzled frown.
“Lily, your dad… the company is important to him. We both know that. But you’re his daughter, and that supersedes anything to do with Hi-Tech.
” She comes to stand next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“Your dad is going to be devastated that you felt like you had to go through this alone. He’s going to be sad that you didn’t give him the opportunity to be there for you. ”
A surge of heat rises in my chest, bitter words spilling out before I can stop them. “It’s not like I’ve had practice with him being there for me, Jules.”
She squeezes me, a silent reprimand at the rancor, and I sink against her, inhaling her fruity perfume. She’s been our housekeeper since I was a kid, and has been more of a mother to me than the one who walked out on me ever was.
“He’s made mistakes,” she says. “But he’s trying to fix those, and this would’ve been the first opportunity for him to do it.” She pauses a beat, and then asks, “So, why have you been avoiding him?”
“Um,” I hedge. “Is that burning?” I look over at the rice, and she scoffs.
“You saw me turn it down. Out with it, girlie.”
I groan, but slowly let it all pour out. “Dad didn’t like Dec at first, remember? Like at all. And he did a terrible job of hiding it. I figured maybe he was just struggling with the fact that I was seriously dating someone.”
“Declan was the first man you brought home,” Julie says.
“Exactly. I thought Dad just didn’t want to compete with another man in my life, you know?
But the more time they spent together, the more Declan grew on Dad.
” I pause, processing the memories of the two of them ‘hanging out’ and murmur quietly, “Guess we know why Declan made such an effort to win him over now.”
Julie doesn’t comment, her hand stroking over my head, a silent encouragement to keep going. “Dad’s always wanted Hi-Tech to go to someone who cared about it, but that was never me. I cared, but not like he did. I wasn’t interested in running it, and I never pretended otherwise.”
“He’s always encouraged you to follow your dreams, and wouldn’t force his own on you.”
I nod, eyes starting to burn. “I knew he wanted to sell, that he was ready to step down, but I also knew he still had this little seed of disappointment that it wasn’t going to be me taking over.
When he told me that Declan was the one buying it…
” I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to shed one more damn tear.
“Dad was so happy, Julie. And I didn’t want… ”
“What, Lily?”
I swallow thickly. “I didn’t want him to blame himself for not seeing who Declan was, but I also didn’t want him to blame me,” I confess brokenly. “I brought Declan into our lives, after all. If it wasn’t for me…”
Julie tugs on my shoulder, forcing me to turn until I’m facing her, and then she pulls me into her body, tucking my head against her shoulder. For the first time since that phone call, I let it all go. My shoulders shudder under the weight of my emotion, my tears wetting Julie’s shirt.
We stay like that for several minutes, Julie slowly swaying us as her hand rubs my back. When my breathing calms, she pushes me back to cup my cheeks.
“You’re emotional,” she tells me. “You’re exhausted and in shock.
We don’t always make sane decisions in the best of times, let alone extreme ones like that.
But you forgot one thing in all that, sweet girl.
” Her voice drops to a soft whisper, “Your dad might have forgotten to show up many, many, many times”—we share a chuckle at her dry expression—“but you were always his greatest joy. Not his company. And he would never blame you for someone else’s mistakes. ”
I sniff, wiping my wrist under my nose. “And now? When I could’ve stopped him from losing Hi-Tech?” I shake my head. “If I’d just told him that first night, he never would have had his meeting with Declan the next day. Now?—”
A rough voice interrupts. “Now, you finally get to see me show up.”