4. Kylie

Chapter four

Kylie

" M om? Dad?" I close the front door and drop my purse on the bench before advancing into the house. Usually, I can find my dad sitting in his recliner watching a game while mom putters around in the kitchen.

Not today. It's too quiet.

I poke my head into an empty living room and continue into the kitchen, only to find it vacant as well. That's when movement through the window catches my eye and I see my parents relaxing on the back porch.

Despite the anxiety of the last few hours, a warmth spreads through me as I open the sliding glass door and see their smiling faces.

"Hey." I give a small wave before turning to close the door behind me.

"Hi, honey. Come sit." Mom pats the swing, motioning me over.

Dad's sitting in a wicker chair next to the swing, his eyes shining with happiness—something I haven't seen in a while—as I lean down to kiss his cheek.

"Hi, pumpkin." My dad's raspy voice, caused by his recent bout with throat cancer, never lets us forget what he's been through.

"Hi, Pops," I say before walking over to Mom to kiss her cheek. "Is that alcohol?" I ask in surprise as I settle next to her on the swing.

They're each holding a clear glass tumbler filled with amber liquid. Frowning, I try to think back to the last time they've indulged in alcohol. It's been years—long before dad's diagnosis.

Dad chuckles and Mom pats my knee. Her lips are tipped high so that her eyes crinkle at the corners. "Your father and I are celebrating his latest test results."

I was thrilled when Mom called me yesterday with the good news. Fear has been my constant companion, thinking I'd lose my dad too soon.

"Should you be drinking with the medication you're on?" Worrying my bottom lip, I clench my hands together to prevent myself from snatching the drink out of his hand.

"I'll be fine, pumpkin. It's only a small drink, I promise," he reassures me.

My dad has always been the strongest person I know, and it's been a hard road for all of us, seeing him weaken from his treatments. He also hasn't been the easiest patient for my mom.

I've never seen Mom cry more than in the past two years, and I know it's also the reason he's struggled so much. He's never liked seeing her cry, but he's had a difficult time setting his pride aside to allow her to help. It's made me aware of my own helplessness as I witnessed the two people I love the most breakdown.

And now, it's a real possibility they will lose their home.

My parents don't know that I'm aware. I'm not even sure if Dad knows. Two weeks ago, I stopped by to help with dinner and overheard Mom talking on the phone with their bank. She was hiding in their bedroom while dad was watching a game. I heard her begging for another extension and it didn't sound like the call was going well.

I've been coming here at least twice a week to help clean the house and prepare dinner in order to give my mom a break. It's been one of the few small things I could do for her so she could focus more on my dad's care.

When Mom appeared in the kitchen an hour later, it took everything in me to pretend I didn't eavesdrop on her phone conversation. It was evident she'd been crying despite her efforts to conceal her red-rimmed eyes. My heart broke, knowing this was the last thing they needed to deal with on top of Dad's illness.

That night, I didn't stay to eat with them as I usually do. I gave them an excuse about a paper being due. My roommate had one of her rare nights home and witnessed my breakdown when I came home. After confessing to her what happened, she offered a solution, but warned me it would come at a great price. When I told her I would do anything for my parents, Talia confessed what her actual job was right after she extracted a promise I'd never tell a soul. She admitted it was how she was affording medical school.

Honestly, her confession explained so much. When I answered an ad for a roommate a couple of years ago, Talia revealed she had no family, was a bit of an introvert, and wanted someone quiet. That's when I knew we'd be a good fit for the small two-bedroom apartment.

Yet, all the time we've been roommates, Talia was out more than she was home, coming and going in fancy clothes and wearing expensive jewelry. She was always getting manicures and pedicures and going to the salon to keep her hair trimmed and colored. I never understood how she was paying for all that, but I also never asked because it was none of my business, despite my curiosity.

So, here I am, after applying to be a sugar baby to earn enough cash to pay down my parents' mortgage. I'm absolutely terrified, but I was serious when I said I would do anything for them. Dad may be on the other side of this illness, but the medical bills have piled up, and now the house is in jeopardy. I will not let my dad lose everything he's worked so hard to build if I can help it.

My mother tugs on a strand of my hair, breaking me out of my bleak thoughts. "Relax, honey. Your dad is on the road to recovery, and now you won't have to help out so much. You can focus more on your future."

"School is going well. I can still help."

She squeezes my hand. "I know you can, but you don't have to anymore. I hate that you felt you had to take a year off from school and you've been so wonderful helping us around here." She waves her hand toward the house. "It's time you focus on your future. We still want you to come over as much as you want—we love seeing you, but you don't need the pressure of helping out here on top of your studies. I've got this now. "

"Listen to your mother. You're a senior in college; you should be out having fun with your friends. Your mom and I are good. Go have fun—but not too much fun." Dad's eyebrows pinch at the idea of me getting into trouble.

I chuckle, knowing even though Dad's retired, he can't shut off his years as a cop.

"Okay. Okay. I give in. I'll accept the invites to all those fraternity parties I keep missing out on." I tease him, knowing it would ruffle his feathers.

"On second thought, your mother needs you here every night to cook," he grumbles, causing Mom to laugh, which then leads to him softening as he turns his gaze to her. It's the first time she's looked so carefree in a long time. Glancing over at Dad, he's watching her with all the love he has for her. He's relaxed, as if the tension that's been plaguing him for the past couple of years is no longer present. As my eyes water, I clear my throat and try to keep my tears at bay.

"Yeah, yeah. No parties." I give my dad a weak smile that grows when he winks back.

Mom leans in to whisper, "Maybe a few parties will be okay." I shift my smile to her before leaning in for a hug. She squeezes me tight before releasing me, telling me she needed the hug as much as I did. "But not tonight. Tonight, we're ordering pizza and watching a movie. Can you stay, sweetheart?"

"Of course." This is what I needed—time with them to settle my uneasiness about today's events.

Mom heads inside the house to call in the pizza order and I notice she's made an effort with her appearance tonight. Her beautiful auburn hair is a bit more streaked with gray, probably due to the stress of my dad's illness, but it looks good on her. She's put on a light dusting of makeup and wearing a pretty summer dress that flatters her curves. I realize we're dressed in a similar style tonight.

Both of my parents are attractive for their age. I've had a few friends mention my dad's good looks, but my mom gets the most attention. She's always turning men's heads when we're out—much to my dad's frustration. She's a beautiful woman, and it makes me proud when people say I look like her. Not that I think I'm as pretty as she is, but I do love knowing I favor her.

I share small pieces of my dad, as well. Our smile and the shape of our eyes are the same, but the rest of me is all Mom.

Despite the compliments I've gotten over the years, I've rarely dated. Either the boys weren't brave enough due to my dad being a cop, or I was too much of a good girl for them. To be fair, I was never interested in anyone in high school. The guys in my class seemed too immature. It might've been due to my crush on Mr. Jackson, my science teacher. I've never been jealous of the attention my mom gets until the day we ran into him at the grocery store and I had to witness his flirting with her.

He's lucky my dad wasn't there.

As Mom shuts the sliding glass door behind her, Dad moves to sit next to me on the swing. I settle into his side and lay my head on his shoulder, thankful he's still here with us.

Dad puts his arm around me, squeezing me to him as he kisses the top of my head before putting the swing into motion. I enjoy these one-on-one times with him and hope for more. My emotions well up again, thinking about how I almost lost this.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done while I've been going through treatments. You've taken good care of us, and I'll always be grateful for how much you've stepped up. I love you, pumpkin."

"I love you too, Dad. You and Mom both." Shaking my head, I try to get rid of the fear. "I can't lose you. I'm not ready." My chest constricts at the thought and I suppress a sob, but I can't stop the tears from spilling onto my cheeks.

He pats my arm, his way of showing his affection. "You'll never lose me. Even if one day—a long time from now—when I won't be here … I'll always be here." He points to my heart to emphasize his meaning. "I'm so proud of the person you've become. You've been my greatest accomplishment." He squeezes me to him again, and it takes everything in me not to lose it.

"Oh, Dad. You're making me cry." I sniffle, grabbing his shirt to wipe my eyes. These tears are partially because I wonder if he will think the same of me if he ever finds out what I did today .

Chuckling, he moves his drink in front of me. "Here, only a little. It'll stop those tears."

I grab it and take more than I should've, causing a round of coughing from the powerful punch of alcohol. Dad bursts out laughing.

"Ugh. That brought more tears to my eyes," I say hoarsely, shoving the drink back into his hand. I glance up, catching my mom watching us from the kitchen window with the phone at her ear and a smile on her lips before she turns away, her attention snagged by the person on the phone.

"Come on. Let's go inside and pick a movie." He nudges me off the swing. I snatch Mom's glass and take it inside with us.

When the pizza arrives, my mom hands me money to pay the delivery guy. What she doesn't know is I sneak some money back into her purse when she isn't looking.

We settle on the first Bourne movie—a favorite series of ours, much to my mom's exasperation. My love of action movies comes from my dad and Mom always humors us.

I love when the hero saves the day, while my dad loves picking scenes apart. He can't resist telling us how the action scenes aren't possible in the real world. My mom just shakes her head and laughs at his comments.

It's one of the best nights we've had in a long time.

As I leave to head home for the night, I tease my dad one more time about accepting an invitation to a frat party this weekend just to rile him again, but it's also a subtle reminder to myself to take a step back. I don't want to worry them when I spend less time here and more time with my boyfriend .

The butterflies take flight in my stomach thinking about what I have to do, and it's all I can dwell on during my drive home.

When I unlock the door to the apartment, I can already tell Talia is out again. I take a quick moment to send her a text, letting her know it's done. I've signed the contract, and now it's time to wait. She responds with a thumbs-up emoji, telling me to stop stressing and to get my beauty sleep.

I snort. Yeah, right. Like I'll be able to sleep.

My mind races as I change into my pajamas and slide under the covers. I've got an early morning class and can already tell tomorrow will be torture. Lifting my head, I punch the pillow a few times, trying to reshape it while also letting out my frustration before turning on my side to stare out the window.

It's a long time before sleep comes. And all too soon, I wake from a dream about a man with intense eyes and sinful dimples.