13. Amaya

13

AMAYA

“ O kay, so what are you struggling with? I know my issue with this arrangement."

What am I struggling with?! I just finished telling Kate that Paul is buying me a house.

"You go first," I grumble, needing to gather some courage to spill my feelings to her.

I'm in the middle of applying makeup for the first time in five years, and I'm trying really damn hard not to have a meltdown about it. I've already deemed eyeliner a no-go since I suck at it and it makes me look weird. Same with coloring in my brows. The array of expensive products I found in my ensuite makes me feel awful for the continued erasing and restarting.

Deciding to stick with a simple concealer, powder, blush and mascara combo, I listen to Kate rant about how Paul didn't clear this with her or the rehabilitation center.

"He's supposed to be your support system, Amaya," she finishes with a huff.

The mirror reflects my natural makeup and the soft purple sundress I found in the closet. It's reminiscent of what I used to wear when I was younger. I'm not sure if it’s me anymore.

Frustration burns a hole in my attitude. "Yeah, and I told you he didn't want me, Kate."

My phone is silent for a beat until Kate's hesitant voice slips through the speakerphone. "Have you guys not talked about that?"

"Talked about what? That he didn't know I existed until like a month ago? Yeah, and in the same breath told me I was moving out because it is what's best for me."

Kate sighs, and I kind of want to lash out at her. I expected her to be firmly on my side to say this is just cruel. "And he said it like that?"

My glare shifts from my skinny form in the mirror down to my phone by the bathroom sink. "Pretty damn sure he told me to focus on healing and getting better elsewhere, but not to worry because he would keep my fridge stocked. I'll have everything I need, just not with him."

"Okay, that's worse," Kate murmurs. "Ugh, this makes things complicated."

"Yes." I nod. "Thinking my dad never wanted me, then learning he just didn't know about me, then finding out that I was right, is complicated ."

"Mmkay, Amy? It's that kind of attitude that will force me to worry about you even more. Which, as you have so eloquently called it, will have me riding your ass even harder."

"I'm going to ignore the nickname just this once because there is way too much to unpack there." I'm pacing now, my knees getting wobblier by the second.

I was already anxious about going with Paul to sign for the house, but Kate has my fight-or-flight response activated like a live fucking wire.

"I'm just thinking there might be another side to this that we don't know yet," she replies steadily.

My emotions burst from my chest, the self-consciousness and pain making themselves known the more I'm questioned. "How am I supposed to feel?! I've only been here for two weeks, and I'm already moving out. I'm too much for him, Kate. Or maybe I'm not enough. Either way, he bought me a house just to get some space from me."

"Okay, yeah, I see your side. I always have, I promise. But it's my job to help you adjust, and what I'm trying to tell you is not everyone has shitty intentions." There's shuffling on her end of the line like she's settling in to dish me some hard truths. "You aren't there anymore, Amaya. You're free, and with that comes a great opportunity to communicate. You aren't stuck or being forced into anything, but it's up to you to express your wants, needs, feelings, and thoughts."

Her words hit the mark, and suddenly, I'm not so angry anymore. I'm scared. Terrified, actually. Looking up to the ceiling, I blink away the tears that threaten my sorry excuse for makeup.

"Amy?"

A watery snort slips out. "God, I hate that name."

"But it got a giggle out of you, so it did its job," she teases, and retreats, giving me a minute.

"I'll talk to him," I whisper into the silent space Kate gave me to think.

A relieved breath puffs through the phone. "Good. I have to talk to him too, but I will keep it to the fact he didn't let us know he was changing the plan. Especially if this is being put in your name, then that adds a whole 'nother layer of fuckery I have to sort out. But Amaya? I really encourage you to open up to your dad, even just a little."

I choke, not prepared to have someone refer to him as my parent. Especially from someone I consider my friend who knows we don't call him that. My initial reaction is to deny the relationship he has to me, but I hold it in. Normally, I would be angry with Kate, but all the word does is send another bolt of fear down my spine.

"Thanks, Kate."

"Of course," she replies sweetly. "I'll text you later, okay?"

"Okay," I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself.

The call ends, leaving me feeling cold and in desperate need of a hug. Or my nest, but unfortunately that's not an option.

"Amaya! Time to go," Paul warns through my closed bedroom door.

"Fuck," I mutter and drag my feet to the low heels I placed by my unused bed. Guess I'm about to become a homeowner.