that’s all.” I gave a weak smile, then balanced up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “A little aspirin, and I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, but accepted my words nonetheless. I moved quickly, feeling his stare on my back as I slipped out of the room and escaped into the bathroom.
With a firm grip on the sink, I inhaled deeply through my nostrils and blew the breath back out through my mouth in a long, steady stream. This was ridiculous—silly, honestly. But still, I needed more than painkillers and time alone. I needed some fresh air.
To my relief, the window provided just that, calming my festering nerves and giving me room to search within myself for all the reasons why my father wasn’t important. But they weren’t coming to me.
I wasn’t just an angry daughter. I was a bride who wanted her father to give her a wise piece of advice, tell her she looked beautiful, then walk her down the aisle to give her away to the man she loved.
The tears that filled my eyes were shocking and frustrating. There was no way that man was ruining my wedding day. But still, when I left the room to return to my family, the wound I’d held hidden and closed for so long in my heart was now open and raw.
Dinner was a favorite of Oliver and mine, tortilla soup. And despite the deliciousness and amazing company, I struggled to maintain polite, engaged conversation through the meal. Luckily, Oliver fielded most of Logan’s questions with excited chatter as I fought the painful void filling my chest and stomach.
I took my final bites as Logan stood suddenly and took Oliver’s plate. “Go get changed into your pajamas and brush your teeth,” Logan told him, setting the dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in to read you a story in a bit.”
I watched Oliver exit rather than meet Logan’s eyes, which I could feel assessing me—much like they had been the entire meal.
“What aren’t you telling me, sweetheart?” Logan moved toward me but I was up, dish in hand, ready to do anything but discuss something I didn’t fully understand myself.
“Nothing,” I lied, focusing solely on the dishwasher I’d begun loading.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. I peeked up, catching him run an irritated hand through his hair. “You know you can’t lie, so please tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
I surprised myself with how hard I slammed the dishwasher door shut. “It doesn’t matter!”
Logan said nothing as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Please just talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
My eyes slammed shut on a heavy sigh. “It’s fine, really. I just…” I tried to step away but he held me more tightly, and suddenly I couldn’t stand it. “I want to get married on my grandparents’ land, and—”
“Of course.” He swung me around to face him, but my heavy head remained down, my eyes locked on the floor.
“And the band hasn’t called back, and—”
“I’ll take care of it.” His easy agreement was somehow exacerbating my frustrated mood.
I finally looked up and said, “And I want to make sure you like the flowers, too. And the menu—you said anything I want, but what if I pick something you hate?” More tears were welling up in my eyes the more I rambled, and when I moved to step out of his grasp, he didn’t stop me.
“Impossible. I’ll love anything—”
“And what about the colors? I like gold and pale blue, but royal blue is nice too. You love blue, but what shade do you want? And you keep saying whatever I want is perfect…” Tears flooded out. “But it’s not perfect. My mom still has to make sure she can get the day off or she won’t even be there, just like she wasn’t today to see my gown. And your dad is so nice and normal, while mine…”
“Sweetheart.” He reached for me, but I distanced myself farther as I felt my entire heart split open.
“My father doesn’t even know me!
He didn’t look convinced, but accepted my words nonetheless. I moved quickly, feeling his stare on my back as I slipped out of the room and escaped into the bathroom.
With a firm grip on the sink, I inhaled deeply through my nostrils and blew the breath back out through my mouth in a long, steady stream. This was ridiculous—silly, honestly. But still, I needed more than painkillers and time alone. I needed some fresh air.
To my relief, the window provided just that, calming my festering nerves and giving me room to search within myself for all the reasons why my father wasn’t important. But they weren’t coming to me.
I wasn’t just an angry daughter. I was a bride who wanted her father to give her a wise piece of advice, tell her she looked beautiful, then walk her down the aisle to give her away to the man she loved.
The tears that filled my eyes were shocking and frustrating. There was no way that man was ruining my wedding day. But still, when I left the room to return to my family, the wound I’d held hidden and closed for so long in my heart was now open and raw.
Dinner was a favorite of Oliver and mine, tortilla soup. And despite the deliciousness and amazing company, I struggled to maintain polite, engaged conversation through the meal. Luckily, Oliver fielded most of Logan’s questions with excited chatter as I fought the painful void filling my chest and stomach.
I took my final bites as Logan stood suddenly and took Oliver’s plate. “Go get changed into your pajamas and brush your teeth,” Logan told him, setting the dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in to read you a story in a bit.”
I watched Oliver exit rather than meet Logan’s eyes, which I could feel assessing me—much like they had been the entire meal.
“What aren’t you telling me, sweetheart?” Logan moved toward me but I was up, dish in hand, ready to do anything but discuss something I didn’t fully understand myself.
“Nothing,” I lied, focusing solely on the dishwasher I’d begun loading.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. I peeked up, catching him run an irritated hand through his hair. “You know you can’t lie, so please tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”
I surprised myself with how hard I slammed the dishwasher door shut. “It doesn’t matter!”
Logan said nothing as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. “Please just talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”
My eyes slammed shut on a heavy sigh. “It’s fine, really. I just…” I tried to step away but he held me more tightly, and suddenly I couldn’t stand it. “I want to get married on my grandparents’ land, and—”
“Of course.” He swung me around to face him, but my heavy head remained down, my eyes locked on the floor.
“And the band hasn’t called back, and—”
“I’ll take care of it.” His easy agreement was somehow exacerbating my frustrated mood.
I finally looked up and said, “And I want to make sure you like the flowers, too. And the menu—you said anything I want, but what if I pick something you hate?” More tears were welling up in my eyes the more I rambled, and when I moved to step out of his grasp, he didn’t stop me.
“Impossible. I’ll love anything—”
“And what about the colors? I like gold and pale blue, but royal blue is nice too. You love blue, but what shade do you want? And you keep saying whatever I want is perfect…” Tears flooded out. “But it’s not perfect. My mom still has to make sure she can get the day off or she won’t even be there, just like she wasn’t today to see my gown. And your dad is so nice and normal, while mine…”
“Sweetheart.” He reached for me, but I distanced myself farther as I felt my entire heart split open.
“My father doesn’t even know me!
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