Page 212 of So This Is War
“Is it if you can move back into my house? That shouldn’t be a question, that’s a demand on my part.”
Trying not to grow frustrated, I ask, “Why did Mom leave you?”
There’s silence.
Prolonged silence that would normally crack me, but I stay firm in wanting to dig deeper with my father.
Finally, he says, “We’re not talking about your mother. We’re talking about you.”
“But why?” I ask. “Why did she leave you? You’ve told me nothing about her.”
“Wylie, I don’t have time for this.”
“You don’t have time for your daughter?” I ask, my voice shaking. “I love you, Dad. I have loved you unconditionally ever since I can remember. I’ve looked up to you, I’ve followed you, I’ve listened, and I’ve honored you. But when it comes to our relationship, it can’t be one-sided. I can’t be the one always trying, always trying to connect. It goes both ways.”
“What are you talking about?” he says, growing angry. “Why do you think I’m so angry? It’s because I care.”
“But why does it matter if I date Levi?” I ask. “He’s a good guy. A sweet and caring guy. He’s supportive and?—”
“He’s not good enough for you.”
“To what standards?” I ask.
“To my standards,” he replies.
“And what standards are those? Do you not want me to find someone who makes me happy? Who will spend hours every night talking to me about my dreams? Who will support me rather than tear me down? Who will hold me and comfort me when my dad is being a dick, and who will celebrate me when I find a job? Would you rather him treat me like Gareth? The boy who cheated on me in high school that you ask about every once in a while. Would you rather me be with Brett, who I dated in college and who thought that partying was more important than me? Or would you rather I be with a man who is more like you, someone cold and unaffectionate? Someone I have to work to earn their love, because it isn’t handed over automatically.”
“That is not how I treat you.”
“Isn’t it, though?” I ask. “When was the last time you said you loved me? When was the last time you asked me out to dinner to just chat and see what I’m up to? When was the last time you gave me a gift that you put thought into, rather than a check at Christmas with a note that says to spend it wisely? You think that your overbearing parenting style is loving me, but it’s suffocating me. You’re not letting me be who I am, and . . . and you’re going to lose me, Dad.” Tears fill my eyes as my voice breaks. “You are going to lose me just like you lost Mom.”
And that right there makes him silent.
So I continue. “I don’t want that to happen. I want to build a relationship with you. I want to make you proud. I want you to look at me and not think how you can mold me to be the daughter you want, but rather celebrate me for my individuality. You’re making it hard to love you, Dad. You’re making it hard for me to want to keep trying. I think...I think the pain youcause meis worse than actually losing you.”
I hear him clear his throat before saying, “Well, if that’s how you feel?—”
“I don’t want to lose you, Dad,” I plead. “But you make it hard to stay.”
“Then maybe you should just . . . leave. Go your separate way.”
“Because I don’t want to,” I say. “I love?—”
But the phone goes dead.The hell? Did he hang up on me?My thoughts are confirmed when I look at the screen.
He hung up on me. Even when given the choice, he’s letting me go. No, he’s pushing me away.
“Then maybe, you should just . . . leave. Go your separate way.”
I drop my phone to the side and bury my head in my hands, letting my tears fall.
I don’t want to lose him.
I really don’t.
But I don’t think he’s giving me any other choice.
“Hey,” Levi says as he sits next to me, surprising me. He places his strong arm around my shoulders and holds me tightly. “Wylie, what’s going on?”
