Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

Amelia

"You can't keep hitting people to solve your problems," I say, handing Dad an ice pack along with the kind of look I remember him giving me as a kid when I did something foolish.

He doesn't like it based on the scowl I get from him in return. But he does snatch the ice from me, placing it on his knuckles with a wince.

We're in his office, though I'd rather be anywhere else.

Like … a doctor's office waiting room filled with flu-ridden children dripping with snot.

Swimming through a crocodile-infested river in Australia.

Standing naked on a stage and being told I must deliver a speech I didn't prepare for in front of every person I've ever known.

It's entirely possible I'm being a little dramatic.

"In this case, I think my response was deserved," Dad says.

I guess dramatic runs in the family.

"Really?" I ask dryly. "You think hitting one of your players—not by accident this time and inside the team facility instead of a church—was deserved?"

All because you found out I married Van? I want to add.

But I don't. Because my dad still has a bullish look about him. And saying the M-word seems like it would be waving a very red flag.

He does drop his gaze, though, staring at the ice on his knuckles.

I stare at the top of his bald head, remembering how he cheerfully agreed to shave his combover for my wedding, even though the man was nothing if not dedicated to the little wispy hairs.

Was it just a few days ago he was thrilled about me starting work here, handing me a Taylor Swift lunch box?

The thought makes my heart hurt. I feel so far from where we were, where we've always been. Since Mom died, it was always Dad and me, against the world. But I realize now, sitting across the desk feeling much farther away, the cost of our closeness might have been me always agreeing with him. Always falling in line, following his rules.

When was the last time I disagreed with him out loud? I honestly can't remember.

All of my current relationships are in shambles. My dad and I are not okay. I'm keeping a huge secret from Morgan.

And—I almost laugh at the absurdity of this one—my marriage is falling apart.

I don't know how to fix any of them. I mean, telling Morgan the truth is the easiest place to start. But I can't predict how she'll react once she knows I've been lying about something so huge … or, not lying, exactly. Just keeping it from her.

Just like Van kept something from you?

Ouch. That was rude. True, but rude.

I really hope Van's okay.

It took almost the entire team of hockey players to pull Dad away from Van. Meanwhile, Parker impressed me by single-handedly keeping Van's sisters from tearing me limb from limb.

Alec and Winston, one of dad's assistant coaches, managed to get all the guys out of the room and onto the ice, telling Dad to take a break while they handled practice.

And now … we're here. Sitting in a silence so awkward and so poignantly painful that the air feels thick and noxious.

As Dad adjusts the ice over his knuckles, I wonder if Van's face is better or worse than it was after my failed wedding. The man has taken one too many blows to the face for me.

"I just cannot believe this," Dad says, startling me out of my thoughts.

"Me neither," I mutter.

"Van. You married Van . Of all the bad decisions to make … you married him ."

Perhaps I underestimated how much my dad dislikes Van.

"What were you thinking?" Dad demands.

I know I wasn't thinking about Dad or his reaction when I tugged Van toward the wedding reception, managing to find the officiant as well as a pair of very drunk wedding guests who acted as our witnesses.

I was thinking about how Van, more than anyone in my life including my dad, made me feel more like myself. That it was okay to be myself, whoever myself happened to be. And it only took a few days for him to do it.

I was also thinking about his lips on mine and how he made me laugh and how much fun we had.

How being with Van felt different than it ever had with Drew. Or with anyone. I'm not sure anyone has ever allowed me that kind of freedom to just unapologetically … be.

Van reminded me of Mom in some strange way. Being around him made me think of how Dad always said when I found the person I want to spend my life with, I shouldn't waste a second. There was an urgency on that beach—the sense that Van was that person, and I really didn't want another second to go by without making it official.

Apparently, this adage of Dad's only applies when it's not his least favorite player.

"I guess you realized your mistake and that's why you came back without him. And why you didn't tell me. Milly, the man is arrogant. A hothead. And the mouth on him." Dad shakes his head, the disappointment on his face growing with every word he says. "Let's not get started about his reputation."

"Yes. Let's not," I mutter. Alec's comments from the day before are still stuck in my head.

The idea of Van and anyone else fills me with hot, hot rage.

"If you were looking for a way to hurt me—" Dad starts.

I interrupt, but quietly. "My decision had nothing to do with you. Or at least, not hurting you. And you don't know Van as well as you think."

Dad leans back in his chair, eyes narrowed. "You really believe after a few days at the beach, you know one of my players better than I do?"

"Yes. Because if you've reduced Van to things you just said, you don't know him at all."

"Do you hear yourself?" he asks.

"I could say the same to you."

Dad stands, the bag of ice falling from his hands as he places his palms flat on the desk and leans toward me. I've seen the look in his eyes before, but never directed toward me. I do my best not to wither under it, though that's exactly what I want to do. Wither, cower, apologize. Back down.

As uncomfortable as it is not to do any of those things, I sit up tall under Dad's gaze.

I can't make choices based on what he wants for me. Or on what keeps the peace. I won't. Not anymore.

"You married a man I can barely tolerate after knowing him only a few days."

"Let's not forget—you sent him to Florida with me."

"Not for this! I thought you'd be crying in your hotel room all week. I couldn't stand the thought of you alone and hurt. I expected Van to keep an eye on you—from a distance. Not to have his bad influence impact you like this."

"He wasn't a bad influence. The opposite, actually."

Dad shakes his head. "I don't believe that. You made maybe the biggest decision of your life, done on a whim. In some ways, I get it—Drew hurt you and you reacted."

"That's not why either. This wasn't about you or Drew."

"Then make it make sense, Milly."

I'm still not sure I can articulate all the reasons an impromptu wedding with Van on the beach seemed like the right choice at the time. But I do know it wasn't just a reaction to Drew. It wasn't me lashing out or acting out because I was hurt.

Dad pauses, and it feels like he's winding up for a big explosion. Instead, his next words are whispered. "You got married, and I wasn't there."

He blinks, and something in me twists up tight. The hurt is clear in his voice. Is this really the crux of it—he's hurt because I got married without him? Dad had been so excited to walk me down the aisle on my wedding day, and he wasn't even there. He didn't even know about the wedding at all until I blurted it out in the locker room.

I didn't think the ache in my chest could be any worse. Turns out—it can. A heavy dose of guilt will do that to a person.

"Daddy—"

"Don't Daddy me."

It's like he physically reached across the desk and slapped me. I swallow hard, then stand up and take a wobbly step back.

"You made a foolish decision while you were hyped up in an emotional state. Or maybe it was about revenge—getting back at Drew and Becky." He shakes his head. "And you chose the one player who is the epitome of the reason I wanted to keep you away from hockey players. A man who?—"

" That's enough ."

Maybe I'm still upset with Van for making the deal with dad. For marrying me without telling me the reason he came to Florida in the first place. And maybe I do feel bad about getting married without Dad being there.

But I won't stand by while Dad eviscerates Van's character. Or mine.

"We're done here," I say. "I'm not going to talk to you when you're just lashing out. Maybe later, when you've had time to cool off, we can discuss this rationally."

Dad laughs, a dark chuckle that has absolutely zero humor in it. "You want to talk about being rational? You married a man who must have messed up so quickly that you came home pretending the wedding never even happened."

Tears prick my eyes but I will not let him see me cry. "I left because I saw your text. The one where you thanked him for babysitting me."

Dad should flinch at this. He should be bothered by his actions. By the way he went behind my back and tried to manipulate the situation. Even if he did so because he was trying to protect me.

But he only shakes his head, then waves a hand. "Then, go. Sounds like you and your new husband have some issues to work out."

He's not wrong about that. Yesterday, the issue I wanted to work out was an annulment.

Now … now I don't even know where to start. I just know I need to get out of this office.

As I walk out, just before the door slams, I hear dad say, "Your mother would be so disappointed."

And I guess I need to find a place to stay because I am not going home.