“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“You should have told me.” She’s saying it almost desperately—and she sounds defensive, which doesn’t make sense. I’m clearly missing something.
“Sophie, what’s going on?”
She rubs at her face, presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, and sucks in a ragged breath. “You’re going to hate me.”
She’s looking at me now, her eyes pleading with me to understand, to say the words she can’t, but I don’t understand. And then I do.
“You’ve talked to him. You’ve talked to him and didn’t tell me.”
Now she’s crying, her face wet and her voice broken as she chokes out, “I didn’t tell him where we live. I never told him!”
“Jesus Christ, Sophie.” I’m up, pacing the room. “How could you do this?”
“He’s my dad. I have a right to talk to him!”
“You know. You know what he put us through.”
“He’s changed.”
“He was in our house. He’s the same manipulative controlling son of a bitch as ever and now he’s using you to get to me. What did you tell him? You must have said something, for him to find out we lived in Dogwood Bay. Did you tell him about me and Greg?”
“He was saying how he misses you, and I told him so he could move on.” She’s talking so fast I can barely understand her, but I get enough to know that I’m screwed. Truly screwed. This isn’t just a stage-one disaster. This has gone into a nuclear meltdown too-late-to-run explosion.
“Your father doesn’t move on, Sophie, and he sure as hell won’t ever let me move on.” I know I’m shouting, can see the stunned look on Sophie’s face, but I can’t believe she’s betrayed me like this. “I told you that your father was insanely jealous.”
“But that was years ago.”
I stare at her, trying to remember that she’s a teenager, too young to comprehend obsession and realize that years don’t matter. I’d told her everything he’d done and thought that would enough warning. I never considered that fear would have a time limit in her mind. Maybe I should have told her about the sleeping pills, maybe then she would have better understood his rage, but it’s too late now. I sit down hard. “How did this happen? How did he contact you?”
“I wrote him. Then he wrote me back and sent it to Delaney.”
“Of course. That project you said you were working on. You lied to me.” I start laughing, a hysterical bitter laugh that I can’t seem to stop. “Of course.”
“He told me that he doesn’t drink anymore—and he’s really sorry.”
“It’s not just about drinking, Sophie. It’s about what is going on inside him. He’d need to be in counseling for years and I don’t even know if that would help.”
“He got counseling in prison.”
“Your father can’t handle his emotions, and that makes him dangerous. He’s only been out a few months and look what’s happening. You can’t see him.”
She looks away, her face flushing to a deep red.
“Oh, no. Tell me you haven’t met with him.”
“Only twice. I thought it would be okay. Then I could tell you that he was different so you didn’t have to worry. He was nice. We went fishing.…”
His hands are around my throat again, choking. The thought of them sitting together. I don’t want Andrew to have those precious moments with his daughter. He hasn’t earned them. He doesn’t deserve them. “You can’t see him again. Not while you’re living with me.”
“You’re threatening me?”
“He will kill me, do you understand?” I pause, holding her gaze, making sure that the words are connecting. “The only way your father will ever let me go is if I’m inside a coffin being lowered into the ground.” I reach out, grab her hand. “I know he’s your dad. I know how it must feel when all your friends have fathers and you don’t. I know how much you want things to be different and how much you want to believe him. I felt the same way for years. I gave him so many chances, Sophie. So many. But he can’t change. He just can’t.”
“He’s different, Mom. I can’t explain it. Maybe it wasn’t him in our house.” I can see in her face how much she needs this to be true and I hate that I’m the one who has to break her heart.
“It’s an act. It’s a game to him. All of this. He’s using you. I know that hurts to hear and maybe it makes you feel like you aren’t enough or something, but it has nothing to do with you. You are amazing. I love you with all my being, but to your father, we are possessions.”