I meet Oz’s eyes again and he offers me a soft smile of encouragement. It’s frustrating. So frustrating. I tear the tissue in my hand in half and sigh. I didn’t see anything or hear anything and I don’t understand how that’s possible.
I scowl in Eli’s direction. “An accident? What happened to you was an accident?”
Eli shrugs. “I don’t remember. We have to take your grandparents’ word for it.”
My eyes slam shut. I told the truth, Oz told the truth and the doctor told the police officer that with trauma like Eli’s it isn’t unusual that he’d forget the moments leading up to the event.
The detective shuts his notebook and asks again, “Did they actually threaten Eli or you? Not how you felt, did they say specific words?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “No.”
“You left before the incident happened.”
“Yes.”
The officer addresses the lawyer. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
And he leaves. Just like that. Goes. Another tear slips down my face.
“Jeff and I would appreciate a few minutes alone with Emily,” Eli states.
The lawyer gathers his things and under Eli and my father’s intense scrutiny, Oz saunters over to me in that sexy way of his and places a slow kiss on my cheek as his thumb wipes away a tear. “You did good.”
I attempt to fake happy when he pulls away, but it falls short. I do squeeze his hand, though, then watch as he walks out the door. The tissue forms into a ball in my hand. “You lied.”
Eli pulls on his earlobe. “Which time?”
My hand smacks the bed. “I’m being serious. You and I both know they shot you. That those people are mean and evil and that they shot you.”
My dad and Eli look at each other, then Eli refocuses on me. “The truth is, I don’t remember.”
I brush at the wetness on my cheeks again with the back of my hand. “Fine, but you know they shot you on purpose. The gun didn’t freaking go off by accident. They. Shot. You!”
“Emily...” starts my dad and I round on him so fast I wonder if my head rotated.
“And you! You lied. Mom lied. You all lied! And for what? I mean, really, why? If these people were capable of shooting Eli—” I throw a pointed glare at him that causes him to shrink a centimeter “—then they are capable of breaking their promise and finding me. Don’t you think that would have been valuable information for me to know? Like ‘hey, Emily, look both ways before you cross the street, eat your freaking green beans because they’re good for you, run like a rabid bear is chasing you if you see people from a gang called the Riot!’”
I’m shouting and when my throat grows scratchy, I close my mouth, but then try again. “Was it worth it? Were all these years of lying to me worth it?”
“Don’t be mad at your dad,” says Eli. “He’s wanted to tell you the truth since the beginning, but it was me and your mom that wouldn’t let him.”
I tear the tissue into smaller pieces. “But he still could’ve told me.”
“It was the terms of the adoption,” Eli says. “I agreed to give up my parental rights as long as your dad kept it quiet. He gave me and your mom his word that he’d never tell you. That’s how bad he wanted you in his life. That’s how I knew you were in good hands.”
My eyesight flickers between Eli and Dad. Pain wells up in me again. I care for them both. Otherwise I wouldn’t be so mad, I wouldn’t be so hurt.
Dad shoves his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I didn’t only fall in love with your mom. I fell in love with you, too. Your mom was willing to walk away if I didn’t agree. I’m sorry you were hurt, but I’m not sorry for making the decision that kept both of you in my life.”
“I’m not sorry, either,” I whisper.
It’s all messed up. It’s all muddled, but if it hadn’t happened, he would have never been my father. And as much as I’m heartbroken at what I’ve lost with Olivia and Eli, I’m not at all sad that the man standing beside me now is my dad.
The world is made of multiple pieces. All of them moving alongside each other, sometimes never touching. Coexisting, yet not. How many of us live our entire lives inside a single bubble? Maneuvering in what we believe is a forward direction when it’s only in a circle among the same type of people.
My mother, my father and Eli lied. For whatever reason, they lied, and typically in my eyes, that’s a cringeworthy offense. But maybe the world isn’t so black-and-white. Maybe there’s room for shades of gray.
Without what has happened, there’s no doubt I would have stayed in the same bubble I was raised in and I’m not just talking about remaining in Florida. I never would have experienced anything new in life.
I take in the two men watching me, the two men waiting for my forgiveness. Eli and my father couldn’t be more different. Blond hair to dark brown. Blue eyes to near black. Medical school to a GED. Shirt and tie to blue jeans and a black leather vest.
But there’s so much they have in common. Both are hardworking, both intelligent in their own ways, both leaders within their communities and, more important, they both love me and I love them in return.