Better (Too Good series)

“How are you getting on with your classes?” he asked.

 

“Just fine,” Cadence replied.

 

“Are you taking a full load?” her mother asked.

 

“Fifteen hours.”

 

“Oh, that’s good,” Mrs. Miller said.

 

It was odd. Her mother spoke to her like nothing had happened in the hospital room—like she didn’t completely ignore Cadence before she left. Like she didn’t have a complete attitude that she couldn’t get her way.

 

“And Millie’s? You’re still working there?” Mr. Miller asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s good,” Mrs. Miller said again.

 

Cadence sipped her ice water.

 

“And you’re being taken care of? I mean, you’re not wanting for anything, are you?” Mr. Miller asked.

 

Cadence smirked. “Mark’s taking care of me,” she said softly.

 

She saw her mother tense. The church parking lot scene flashed in her brain, particularly her mother’s refusal to say Mark’s name. It was “your son” and “that man.”

 

“It’s nice to see you back at church,” Cadence’s dad said.

 

“I don’t go for you,” Cadence replied. “And anyway, how can you even say that to me? You’ve never greeted me all the times I’ve gone.”

 

“I meant that I’m glad you’re going,” her father replied.

 

Cadence snorted. “Oh, I see. You’re hoping church will help me see my wicked ways?”

 

“You are living with a man, Cadence,” her mother said. “And you’re not married.”

 

“Are we done here?” Cadence asked. She moved to stand, but Oliver put his hand on her shoulder.

 

“Wait,” he whispered.

 

Cadence took a deep breath.

 

Mr. Miller cleared his throat. “I realize things between us have been strained.”

 

“Strained?” Cadence asked. “Things between us have been nonexistent. Not strained.”

 

“Nevertheless,” Mr. Miller said, “I realize I’m not being fair in some areas of our relationship.”

 

“Our relationship?” This time Cadence laughed. “Dad, we don’t have a relationship.”

 

“I realize that,” he snapped, and then composed himself once more. “And I’m not looking for one.”

 

Cadence reared back. “Then why am I here?”

 

“I wanted to do this one thing for you,” he said.

 

Cadence glimpsed Oliver. He shrugged and shook his head.

 

“What thing?” she asked.

 

Mr. Miller walked to the buffet and grabbed an envelope. He handed it across the table to Cadence.

 

“What is this?”

 

“As long as you go full time and finish in four years, that should cover it,” he replied.

 

“What are you talking about?” Cadence asked.

 

“Your schooling. That money is yours, and I want you to have it. I want you debt-free when you graduate,” he explained.

 

Cadence was in shock. And then her shock turned to suspicion.

 

“What’s the catch?” she asked carefully.

 

“There is no catch,” her father replied. “That money is yours. It’s as simple as that.”

 

Cadence looked at the unmarked envelope. She was so tempted to open it and read the sum on the check, but that would be rude. Plus, a part of her felt like it would give her parents too much satisfaction. Why were they doing this in the first place?

 

And then she understood. Her father had only just said it—that he wasn’t looking to have a relationship with her. This was his pathetic attempt to absolve himself for hitting her then disowning her. Why couldn’t he just say he was sorry? She’d take a genuine apology over money any day.

 

“Is that it then?” she asked, fighting the tears.

 

“Well, we have dessert,” Mrs. Miller offered.

 

Dessert. It was ludicrous. This entire evening. She thought for a split second about leaving the money on the table and walking out. But then her brain overrode her heart. It didn’t happen often. She was usually more emotional than rational, but her brain took the lead and whispered important information in her ear.

 

Take the money.

 

Why? she asked.

 

Because that’s the wise thing to do. Take it.

 

But they’ll hold it over my head.

 

No, they won’t. You’ve made no promises. You’ve signed no deals. Take the money. Take it for Mark.

 

Mark! she thought. Mark’s schooling! I’d forgotten.

 

But now you remember, her brain said. This will be your father’s only apology. Accept it, then walk away.

 

Cadence nodded, and her mother jumped up for the kitchen. Her mother thought she was agreeing to dessert when she was really agreeing to take the check. It wasn’t the heartfelt apology she hoped for. It wasn’t the acceptance she craved for so many months. But it was a future—a future for both her and Mark. And she couldn’t worry about whether her parents wanted to share in that future. She thought about what was right for the man she loved, so she ate her mother’s cake, thanked her parents for the check she tucked in her purse, and said goodbye.

 

And she never looked back.

 

 

 

 

 

“Are we there yet?” Avery whined from the backseat.

 

Cadence giggled and flipped the page of her latest novel.

 

“What the hell are you reading?” Avery asked when no one answered her.

 

“Nothing you’d like,” Cadence replied.

 

“Oh, is it like classic shit?”