39. Britta

Chapter thirty-nine

Britta

M y eyes bounce from my phone to the ocean. I'm not sure which one I hate more right now. The thing that's hurt Dex or the thing that made it possible to deliver the news to me.

"Britta?" Dad says behind me before putting a hand on my shoulder. "What's happened?"

I push back tears and turn around, knowing the truth has to come out now for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I don't have the strength to dance around it with my family.

"Dex is hurt." That's as much as I can get out before my throat threatens to close.

"How bad?" Dad's eyes are soft with concern, and I know he's as worried about Dex as he is about me.

"Really bad. He's in the hospital. He can't walk. He can barely talk. A severe concussion. He's been in the ICU since Monday."

Dad nods, and I wonder if we're both thinking of Mom's last days when she couldn't walk or talk either. "He needs you there."

I drop my gaze to the grains of sand blowing across the patio. "He doesn't want me there."

The only sound that follows is the wind clanging the metal clamps against the cement poles the volleyball nets are attached to. There's a dark rhythm to the clinking, like the ticking of a clock running out of time.

"Hmm," Dad huffs thoughtfully. "Want and need are two different things."

I'm so surprised by his answer that I can't help but look at him. "What do you mean?"

Dad wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me back to the chair I'd been sitting in before, then takes the one across from it.

"Why did you marry Dex?"

I search for some way to tell him, but no words that he'll understand come to me.

"The truth, Britta." He leans over his knees on his elbows with his hands clasped together. "It was obvious in Vegas that while you two are good friends, and there's… something there, there was also something missing—on both your parts. You get to walk your own path, Sweetie, but you don't need to hide it from me. Especially now."

I sigh, knowing that in this moment, I can't keep up the ruse, especially if Dad suspected it from the start. "He needs to gain citizenship to surf for Team USA in the 2028 Olympics, and I needed money to buy Frothed. "

I brace myself for Dad's disappointment. Hearing the words makes my arrangement with Dex sound more shallow than it is. Or, at least, than I thought it was.

"I'm going to pay him back," I add. "Dex didn't pay me to marry him. It's not like that." The more I try to justify what I've done, the more Dad's face grows weary, like he's aging right in front of my eyes. "We wanted to help each other reach our dreams."

Dad drops his head. Bear peeks out the glass door and raises his eyebrows. He wants to come out, but I shake my head. I'm not ready for this conversation to be between anyone but Dad and me. Bear drops his hand from the handle and turns back to the kitchen and the chaos there.

Dad lifts his head, and there's a steeliness in his eyes I've only ever seen when we had to decide whether to take extraordinary measures to keep Mom alive. His answer was no, and he wouldn't back down from it, even though it took me another day to see the wisdom of not prolonging her death any longer than we already had.

"I can respect that you two thought you were helping each other by getting married, but ultimately, you used a sacred institution for selfish reasons."

I'm shocked speechless. Dad's not a religious guy, so his use of sacred hits hard. I love my Dad, but I respect him too. I want him to respect me, so I scramble to find some kind of defense for what I've done. "I didn't think I was being selfish. I want him to go to the Olympics."

"And you planned to stay married to him forever after that? ‘Til death do you part?'" Dad's words are gentle but prodding, and I can only shake my head.

"If your primary motivation for marrying Dex wasn't love, then you didn't do it for the right reasons. I thought your mom and I had taught you that." With each word Dad speaks, I sink further into the chair cushion, the implication of what I've done growing heavier and heavier.

Shame brings hot tears to my eyes. "I'm sorry, Dad."

His eyes soften. "You've got nothing to be sorry about in relation to me, but do you have any feelings at all for Dex? Because what I saw on his face on your wedding day can't be entirely faked. He wasn't saying yes to a business arrangement, whether or not he knew it at the time."

Maybe it's just his opinion, but Dad's words give me the courage to say what I haven't even admitted to myself. "I might love him, Dad."

Dad smiles. "Then you might need to find a flight to Hawaii."

I shake my head. "He didn't even want Archie to tell me he was hurt. He made Archie promise if anything happened to him, I wouldn't end up his… caretaker."

I tread carefully over the last word.

"Because of Mom?" he asks.

I answer with a nod.

Dad presses my hand between each of his. "None of us were prepared for what Mom would need from us. It all happened so fast. I have wondered since her… passing, if I put more on you than I even realized. Was it too much, honey? Did I expect more than I should have?"

I'm feeling raw and exposed, which might be why I decide in that moment not to protect him from the truth anymore. I've been wrestling with that truth a lot and I'm tired of keeping secrets.

"That expectation was heavy, Dad, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't resent it sometimes. You had to keep up at the store, I understand that, and the boys had a lot going on, I understand that too, but I gave up everything to fill in the gaps and…" I pause to make sure I'm okay revealing this much. I decide I am. "And no one seemed to even notice. Everyone seemed to ignore what I'd sacrificed to make Mom a priority. Like it was my job."

I turn my hand to better see his. His knuckles are swollen with arthritis and his veins corded from years of hard work, which almost makes me regret saying what I've said, but it also feels good to have finally said it out loud. "But I wouldn't do anything differently, either." I look up and meet his tear-filled eyes, which bring on tears of my own. "Does that make sense? I hate I had to watch Mom die the way she did, and I've been working through my resentment about that, but I'm so grateful I had the time with her, and I wouldn't take that back."

He sniffs and squeezes my hand tighter. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry… and I am so grateful that you were there. It made all the difference, to us, but also to her. She was a different person by the time she died, but I know that inside, she was the same mother who loved you with her whole soul."

We embrace and I cry for my mother and how much I miss her. Dad cries too, and it's a beautiful moment for us to share. When we finally pull back, Dad puts both of his hands on my shoulders. "Do you care enough about Dex to be his caretaker if he doesn't recover from his injury? You don't have to, Dex is telling you to walk away, and we will support whatever you decide, but you have to live with the decision either way."

I picture Dex in a wheelchair like Mom's, needing to be fed and bathed, spending his days watching TV as he loses more and more of his motor functions. The idea of it presses on my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

But then I remember holding Mom's hand, wiping her mouth, helping her with the simplest tasks and how she'd smile her gratitude. I hated watching her die, but it was an honor to take care of her.

And Dex isn't Mom. He may not surf again, but people can learn to walk and talk again after a brain injury. As much as I hate he told Archie not to call me, it's a sign that his brain is still functioning.

I let out a breath and look at Dad. "I think I could take care of Dex, but I'm scared. What if it's too much for me? What if I change my mind?"

Dad's mouth forms a bittersweet line—not quite a smile, but not quite a frown. "I guarantee there will be days when it's too much and that you will change your mind every time you have an especially difficult day. That's what it is to be married. You recommit every day, through every big problem and minor inconvenience that comes your way."

I burst into a laugh that makes Dad blink with surprise. "So, what you're saying is, if I want my marriage-of-convenience to be more than that, I have to be prepared for a lot of inconveniences?"

Dad blinks again, his brow creased with confusion. "I suppose so."

I stand and kiss the top of his bald head. "Thanks, Dad. I need to get a flight booked for Hawaii."

Dad pushes himself off the chair and wraps me in a giant hug. "That's my girl."

I squeeze him back until a realization hits me so hard that my shoulders fall. "Airplane is the quickest way to Hawaii, isn't it?"

Inconvenience number one.