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“You should get back to your friends,” I tell her as I slide into my car and then drive away.

HARLOW

For the past hour I’ve been able to smell the lasagna that my father has been downstairs cooking. He makes it for me every year on my birthday, and even though he’s in the process of moving into his new house, he held true to the tradition.

Yeah, that bomb was dropped on me last week.

His new place is only a five-minute drive from here, and when he took me to see it a few days ago, I cried a little.

To know he has a new home that isn’t my home destroyed a piece of me. I didn’t want him to know how upset I was, so I waited until I was alone later that evening to let it all out.

A tapping on my door pulls me away from my math book. “Come in.”

My dad steps inside and closes the door behind him. “Dinner’s ready, but I wanted to give this to you now.” He holds a tiny box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

“Your real birthday gift.”

“You already gave me money,” I say as I walk over to him.

“I thought you’d like this better.”

He hands over the box, and I slip the top off, revealing a key. “Did you buy me a new car?” I tease ... kind of.

He smirks. “It’s a key to the new house.” He slips his arm around my shoulders, adding, “Ourhouse.”

I smile as I look down at the brass key.

“I want you to know that we’re still a family and that my home is always going to be yours too. So, you can come over whenever you want, okay?”

After setting the box on the bed, I give him a hug. “Thank you, Dad.”

Ever since I went away to Hopewell, things have felt off between us. He’s been so distant, traveling a lot more than usual. We don’t talk as much as we used to, and I’ve been questioning if his love for me has diminished right along with the love he used to have for my mom. There have been times I’ve wanted to ask him if it has, but this right here is all I need to know that it hasn’t.

Dropping a kiss to the top of my head, he gives me a tight squeeze and then pulls back. “I can’t believe my baby girl is eighteen.”

“Finally.”

He smiles so wide that it crinkles the skin in the corners of his eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says and then stands. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

We head downstairs, and my mother already has the dining table set. I can’t remember the last time the three of us ate a meal together. As we take our usual seats and start serving our plates, there’s an uncomfortable silence among us. I look past my mother and notice a few more moving boxes stacked against the wall, but the key in my room offers me a tinge of comfort that I’m not completely stuck here with her.

“So, where is Sebastian taking you tonight?” Dad asks.

“We’re going to the movies.”

“You guys have been spending a lot of time together.” His tone is suggestive.

“We’re just friends.”

“But you do spend a lot of time with him.” My mother cuts into her lasagna.

“So?”