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look my family in the face. Nothing would erase the guilt of what I’d done
to my father, but with her at my side, I’d feel redeemable.
The cushions next to me sank, and a shaky hand was laid on my back.
“He just has to take it easy,” Mom said, rubbing my back. “You’re just
like your father. You both work so hard you forget why you’re working in
the first place.”
I folded my palms together and put the edge to my forehead, looking at
my feet spread on the beige carpet. “He never lied.”
She laughed. “Of course he’s lied. Like a rug, that man’s lied.”
“Ma,” Lyric said, dropping her phone next to the fruit bowl. “Not cool.”
“Shush, you. Byron, sweetheart, sit down before you wear out your
shoes. And you”—she tapped my back—“Stop hiding your face. You’re not
the only sinner in this family.”
“Yo!” Colton raised his hand, still flipping channels. “I’m right over
here.”
“Don’t call Daddy a liar just to make him feel better,” Lyric said.
“I agree,” I said. “I don’t want to feel better. And Lyric? That time you
fell into the Wilkins’s empty pool? I lied. We didn’t follow you over there.
You followed us.” I looked at Byron. “Sorry.”
My brother laughed. “I forgot about that.”
“I’m devastated.” She rolled her eyes.
“Get it out, brah,” Colton said.
“I’ll tell Dad when we can see him,” I said. “And I’ll resign from
Crowne.”
“No, you won’t,” Byron snapped. “You’re not dropping that in my lap.”
“I thought you wanted it.”
“It’s a time-suck. I have a wife who needs me.”
And I didn’t.
I had a wife who loved me and who I’d hurt—not with lies but
indifference. We’d had a short time together, and I’d spent it taking her for
granted. And when I stopped for a moment to appreciate her needs, I’d torn
her open like a Christmas gift, shredded her defenses, only to take her for
granted as soon as she said she loved me.
My family couldn’t leave me, no matter what I did to them. They’d
never stop loving me.
But Ella? My star? The light source I revolved around?