Page 28

“You can’t control what goes on when you’re not around. I don’t have to tell you anything unless it puts our daughter in danger, and guess what? Not once has she been. We have our issues. You don't trust me. Whatever. But I’m a good dad, and I make all of my decisions with her in mind. I wouldn’t have brought Raquel into the equation if I had even the slightest doubt about our relationship, or who she is as a person.”

I walk to my door, grateful to hide my eye roll as I’m facing away from him. If there was someone from the outside looking in, I would look like the bad guy. I would look like the most unreasonable mom on the planet.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over the amount of conversations we’ve had where he was inconsiderate, and rude, and put me in a bad position. There are too many to count. So maybe he’s finally grown up a bit, but I don’t have to give in to what he wants just to be the nice guy.

“That all sounds very noble of you, but this act is a little too late. You’re right, I barely trust you to look out for her when she’s ten minutes away. It stresses me outconstantly,” I tell him.“You can learn how to compromise if you’re so set on this, but even then… I just really don’t want it to happen, honestly. At all. I don’t expect you to care what I’d go through in the time you’d have her away, but it wouldn’t be pretty.”

“I do care. I’m not this twisted villain you make me out to be. I’ve been compromising with you for years now.”

I shake my head, turning back to face him one last time before I know I’ll be ending the conversation.

“I’m sure you’ll probably always feel guilty for the way you treated me when Dahlia was born, but that doesn’t make itgo awayfor me. Seems like you’re ignoring it pretty well, out of self preservation, I’m guessing. I can’t. I worry every day that you’ll shut down on her too. You haven’t done nearly enough for either of us to prove to me otherwise. Iamreasonable, dude. I look at it as a possibility, but it hasn’t happened yet. I don’t think it’ll happen for a long time.”

“How have I not done enough? She’s taken care of—“

“Underyourroof! I spent years struggling to pay my rent, and all that was for you was a chance to fight the custody arrangement. You never thought about the fact that my daughter and I needed each other, and maybe could’ve used a little help.But little, spoiled Caleb would think of every single possibility in the world before doing anything to help the mother of his child.”

He starts to respond heatedly, but I put a hand up.

“I have dinner in the oven, I’m done with this conversation.”

I open my door, and then I close it softly behind me. I’m angry, but never angry enough to frighten Dahlia. I take a few seconds to breathe, and push that interaction from my mind.

He’s crazy if he thinks he’s getting his way here.

The music is back. I thought that finding out about Dahlia would’ve been the thing to change her ways, but of course that would’ve been too easy.

I even managed to get her into her own bed, after hours of her fighting it. I sat on the floor next to her, and I read her books. I put all of her favorite toys around her, and I tucked her in so nicely. She cried a lot, and it was so hard, but we eventually got there. She was out and snoring, and I snuck away to my own bedroom to enjoy a full night of sleep.

I slept for an hour. I heard Dahlia crying first, and I ran to her in a panic before realizing what else I was hearing. That damned music woke her up, and terrified her. Who wouldn’t be terrified in this situation?

“Shh, it’s okay baby. It’s okay, sweet girl.”

She’s gasping out words in between her sobs, but I can’t make all of it out. Something about being tired and scared.

This is not okay. This is what I’ve been dreading more than anything about our current situation. I didn’t want it to hurther.

I move around the apartment, grabbing a couple things we’ll need in the morning. Toothbrushes, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt for each of us, Dahlia’s favorite stuffed animal and her blanket. She dozes off at one point, until a new song starts up with even more thumping bass and she resumes crying.

I feel like crying right here with her.

I load her into the car with promises of sleep, and quiet, and getting to see grandma and grandpa in the morning. It barely calms her down, but two minutes in the car and she’s out again.

We shouldn’t be in the car right now. We shouldn’t have to flee the home that we pay for and have lived in a lot longer than that rude, inconsiderate, piece of–

I blow out a long exhale, not wanting to work myself up anymore than I already am. I need to focus on getting to our destination safely.

It is a challenge to get Dahlia out without waking her, and to not move her around too much as I unlock the door and get us inside.

To my surprise, I see my dad standing at his kitchen counter with a glass of water in hand. He looks less surprised to see me here. We smile at each other, but I go put Dahlia down in a bed before I even attempt to say a word. He must know better too, because he waits quietly while I walk down the hall.

“Bad night?” he asks when I’m back in the kitchen with empty arms.

“So bad.”

I hug him tightly, and we just stand like that for a minute. I feel like I’m a little kid again, being comforted after a bad dream. This time I only wish it was a bad dream, instead of my painful reality.

“You’ve got to do something about it, sunshine. You can’t let them drive you out of your house.”