Page 63
Story: Tiller
“I’m sorry,” I mouth.
He says nothing in reply. His posture is cold, his eyes full of rage. Swallowing hard, his gaze shifts to River, passed out next to him, her head on his lap, his other hand twirling locks of her hair on his finger.
It reminds me of the night she found comfort in my hair to forget the worst.
Is that why he’s doing it? Maybe he’s trying to forget the words my father said.“You’ll never be good enough to be anyone’s father.”
Though it shouldn’t be surprising coming from my father, I can’t believe he said that. Are you? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I should have said something myself. . . should have, but didn’t. Maybe that’s why Tiller is mad. Because I didn’t say anything.
It’s when we’re leaving that night, my father catches us and points his finger in Tiller’s face. “Keep this quiet. I don’t need anyone else knowing about it until we’re actually sure you’re her father.”
I can’t take it anymore. I finally stand up for Tiller and say, “You have no right to talk to him like that. He didn’t have a say in any of this. Ava decided for Tiller what his position in all this would be. And then again when she died, she asked me to let River know her biological dad.”
My mother steps in with, “We will be having a paternity test done and fighting for custody of her.”
“You can’t do that,” I argue, feeling like my heart might explode in my chest at the idea of someone taking River from me. “Ava and Cullen chose me to take care of her. Not you.”
My father ignores me and glares at Tiller, holding a sleeping River and then me, whispering. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here. You’re biting off more than you can chew.”
He only ever recognizes when I fuck up, but this time, this time I didn’t fuck up. I’m doing what Ava wanted for her daughter, whether they realize it or not.
Tiller notices my tears that I can’t help. They glide down my cheeks, but I don’t brush them away. I think I want them to see how much they hurt me. He kisses my temple and hugs my shoulder with one arm, the warmth of him radiating through me.
“Working your way through the sisters?” My father snorts, shaking his head in disapproval. “Going for the triple crown?”
Of course he has the nerve to go there. Adjusting his hold on River, Tiller leans in, but I hear it when he whispers to my father, “Suck my balls, old man,” then takes my hand, turning me toward the parking lot.
“Where do you think you’re going?” my mother asks, her tone condescending.
A sourness burns in the pit of my stomach, words trapped in my throat. “I’m leaving.”
“With him?” she sneers, disgusted in my choice of men. It’s not even that. She’s disgusted with me.
“Yes.” My voice sounds painful, the misery of the night weighing on me.
“You’ve humiliated this family,” my mother pauses, her tones sinking, “once again.”
“I’m not doing this with you tonight. He had every right to say something.”
I step past her only to have her grab my wrist, clenching it. There are mothers out there who will warn you,Don’t touch the stove. It’s hot. Then there’s Regina Johnson. She’ll wait and let you burn yourself just so she can say,I told you so.“Amberly Sky Johnson, don’t you turn your back on me when I’m talking to you. I’m your mother. And no, he didn’t have a right to say something. He ruined Alexandra’s day.”
I yank my arm away. “Why are you always picking a fight with me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m used to it, but I’m sick of it. You have no right to treat me like this.”
I don’t know what I did to make her hate me, but it seems nothing I do will ever be good enough in her eyes. Why did they even have me? So they had someone to torture? If it hadn’t been for Ava growing up, I would have run away stayed away.
I miss you, Ava.
But then my father says the thing that could possibly send my soul unraveling because I’ve never been good enough for him. “I only ever want what’s best for you, Amberly.”
I laugh, the alcohol still in my system speaking for me. “As long as that was never Tiller Sawyer.”
“He’s not good enough for you, and you know it.”
Before an all-out argument can start, again—because I’m in that kind of mood—I walk away with Tiller, the only person who has ever truly understood me.
We wait until Tiller’s sober enough to drive, but as soon as he is, we leave.
Me in my plain bridesmaid dress and Tiller in his suit. River took her dress off, refusing to wear it any longer than she had to. She’s passed out in the back seat with Tiller’s suit jacket draped over her half-naked body.
He says nothing in reply. His posture is cold, his eyes full of rage. Swallowing hard, his gaze shifts to River, passed out next to him, her head on his lap, his other hand twirling locks of her hair on his finger.
It reminds me of the night she found comfort in my hair to forget the worst.
Is that why he’s doing it? Maybe he’s trying to forget the words my father said.“You’ll never be good enough to be anyone’s father.”
Though it shouldn’t be surprising coming from my father, I can’t believe he said that. Are you? He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. I should have said something myself. . . should have, but didn’t. Maybe that’s why Tiller is mad. Because I didn’t say anything.
It’s when we’re leaving that night, my father catches us and points his finger in Tiller’s face. “Keep this quiet. I don’t need anyone else knowing about it until we’re actually sure you’re her father.”
I can’t take it anymore. I finally stand up for Tiller and say, “You have no right to talk to him like that. He didn’t have a say in any of this. Ava decided for Tiller what his position in all this would be. And then again when she died, she asked me to let River know her biological dad.”
My mother steps in with, “We will be having a paternity test done and fighting for custody of her.”
“You can’t do that,” I argue, feeling like my heart might explode in my chest at the idea of someone taking River from me. “Ava and Cullen chose me to take care of her. Not you.”
My father ignores me and glares at Tiller, holding a sleeping River and then me, whispering. “I don’t know what you’re trying to prove here. You’re biting off more than you can chew.”
He only ever recognizes when I fuck up, but this time, this time I didn’t fuck up. I’m doing what Ava wanted for her daughter, whether they realize it or not.
Tiller notices my tears that I can’t help. They glide down my cheeks, but I don’t brush them away. I think I want them to see how much they hurt me. He kisses my temple and hugs my shoulder with one arm, the warmth of him radiating through me.
“Working your way through the sisters?” My father snorts, shaking his head in disapproval. “Going for the triple crown?”
Of course he has the nerve to go there. Adjusting his hold on River, Tiller leans in, but I hear it when he whispers to my father, “Suck my balls, old man,” then takes my hand, turning me toward the parking lot.
“Where do you think you’re going?” my mother asks, her tone condescending.
A sourness burns in the pit of my stomach, words trapped in my throat. “I’m leaving.”
“With him?” she sneers, disgusted in my choice of men. It’s not even that. She’s disgusted with me.
“Yes.” My voice sounds painful, the misery of the night weighing on me.
“You’ve humiliated this family,” my mother pauses, her tones sinking, “once again.”
“I’m not doing this with you tonight. He had every right to say something.”
I step past her only to have her grab my wrist, clenching it. There are mothers out there who will warn you,Don’t touch the stove. It’s hot. Then there’s Regina Johnson. She’ll wait and let you burn yourself just so she can say,I told you so.“Amberly Sky Johnson, don’t you turn your back on me when I’m talking to you. I’m your mother. And no, he didn’t have a right to say something. He ruined Alexandra’s day.”
I yank my arm away. “Why are you always picking a fight with me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m used to it, but I’m sick of it. You have no right to treat me like this.”
I don’t know what I did to make her hate me, but it seems nothing I do will ever be good enough in her eyes. Why did they even have me? So they had someone to torture? If it hadn’t been for Ava growing up, I would have run away stayed away.
I miss you, Ava.
But then my father says the thing that could possibly send my soul unraveling because I’ve never been good enough for him. “I only ever want what’s best for you, Amberly.”
I laugh, the alcohol still in my system speaking for me. “As long as that was never Tiller Sawyer.”
“He’s not good enough for you, and you know it.”
Before an all-out argument can start, again—because I’m in that kind of mood—I walk away with Tiller, the only person who has ever truly understood me.
We wait until Tiller’s sober enough to drive, but as soon as he is, we leave.
Me in my plain bridesmaid dress and Tiller in his suit. River took her dress off, refusing to wear it any longer than she had to. She’s passed out in the back seat with Tiller’s suit jacket draped over her half-naked body.
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