Page 120 of Things We Left Behind

“Your father didn’t tell me you went before the parole board,” Lucian said.

“Why would he?” I asked, pulling out of his grip so I could pace. I thought better when I moved. “I can’t believe this. They should both be here.”

“Who?”

I stopped my frenetic pacing to look up at him. “Our fathers. Mine should be here because he was good and kind and smart and wonderful. He should be here playing with his granddaughter, planning a Mediterranean cruise with Mom, and helping us get Mary Louise out of prison. And that vile excuse for a human being who called himself your father should be here suffering every minute of every day for what he did to you.”

“And you,” Lucian said quietly.

I ignored him and marched into the living room. There I picked up one of the scratchy throw pillows, held it against my face, and let loose the scream that had been building in my throat.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, having the audacity to sound almost amused.

I tossed the pillow back on the couch. “I don’t know. It’s something Naomi does. I thought it would help.”

“Did it?”

“No. I am so enraged right now, you should probably leave.”

“This is my house,” he pointed out.

“Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll go break my own stuff until I feel better.” I headed for the front door.

He caught me just as my hand closed around the doorknob and planted his palm against the door, holding it shut.

“Back off, Lucian,” I hissed without turning around.

“Why are you so angry?” he asked.

I whirled around to face him. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Sloane,” he said almost gently.

“I’mangrybecause he hurt you and your mother. He ruined you. And he gets to just, what? Escape it all?Peacefully?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. One hot, angry tear spilled over and carved a path down my face.

He took me by the shoulders. “Don’t youdareshed a single tear over him.”

“Don’t youdaretell me how to feel about this.”

“He didn’t ruin me,” he insisted. “I didn’t let him stop me from building this life.”

“Lucian, what life?” My voice cracked.

“I have more money and power than—­”

“You havethings. You have millions of dollars and acquaintances in high places. You work every waking hour of the day. But none of that made you happy. You rescued the family name so it would never be associated with him, and that’s great, but that name ends with you. You got avasectomybecause he made you believe you were damaged.”

His beautiful face turned to stone. “Not everyone gets to be happy, Sloane.”

“See? That right there.” I shoved a finger in his face. “He ruined you. He ruined us.”

For a second, Lucian looked shell-­shocked. He looked as if I’d hit him. And then the mask slid into place again. He released me and took a step back.

But now that I’d gotten started, I couldn’t stop. I closed the distance between us and said the words I’d been choking on since I was fifteen. “He took a sweet, smart, beautiful boy and made him feel broken. And I will never forgive him for that.”

“He didn’t ruin me. I am who I am in spite of him.”