“Everything is fine, Dad. Katherine hasn’t said anything other than she’s excited I’m coming. I guess I just want to get away and think about what I want to do with my life now. That’s all.” After the fight with Tor earlier today, I just want to get away from everything.

“I get that. I just wanted more time with you myself this summer. I have a tour in the Fall. And then again in January. I feel like you’re running away from something.”

I hate upsetting my father, and I worry about leaving him because I know he’s lonely even though he refuses to admit it. He looks so young to me today, wearing ripped up jeans and a black shirt that’s unbuttoned with all his chest and ab tats visible, and a black baseball hat on his head backward, his long hair spilling out from beneath it. He doesn’t look like a typical father and sometimes I forget he’s as young as he is.

“I know, Dad. I’m sorry. I’ll call and text you every day. And I’ll come back at the end of July or early August, so we’ll still have time together before you leave.”

“But I’ll miss your birthday. It’s your eighteenth and I wanted to have a big party for you.”

I inwardly cringe. “I hate parties. When I get back, I’ll have a few friends over for one of your bonfire nights. That’s all I want,” I smile reassuringly at him. “You don’t have to do anything special for me.”

His brow creases with worry. “Your mom would want something special for you for your birthday. She would want me to do something memorable for you.”

“You make every day of my life special, Dad,” I say, and I mean it with all my heart. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t tell me and show me how much he loves me.

“You could come on tour with me. It’ll be fun now that you’re older. Your uncles would love to have you around.”

I check the clasps on Snuggles cage to make sure they’re secure before I can load her up into the backseat of my Jeep. “I might just take you up on that. Let’s see how the summer goes, okay?” I’m not sure if Toren still wants me working at his shop when Gretchen leaves. I guess I’ll cross that bridge later after things settle down.

“Good enough. I just want you to know, I don’t want you to move out. I know a lot of kids your age want to get out on their own and get their own place or live with their friends, but I like having you here with me.”

He walks over to the rabbit cage and peers in, poking his finger through the bars to pet her, then turns back to face me, and the desperation in his eyes tugs at my heart. “I can work on giving you more space and not prying into your life, and I could hire a builder and section off part of the house so you have your own apartment. This place is big enough to do that, we have rooms we don’t even use. Your mom thought we’d have more kids someday…” his voice trails off, and his hand goes up to finger the tarnished silver skeleton key that hangs around his neck on a thick strand of leather. He never takes it off because it was hers. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

“Daddy…” I won’t barter with my father’s love. I refuse to demand things for myself in exchange for companionship and security for him. “You don’t have to do any of that. You don’t bother me, you’re not even home much. Trust me, I’m not in any hurry to move out.”

“Good. I don’t want too much to change, ya know,” he swallows and meets my eyes. “I have a good feeling…about your Mom. She would want you here when she comes home. Think of all the things you can tell her-”

Counting to five, I try to level my voice. “Dad,” I say sternly. “Mom isn’t coming home.”

We stare at each other, and I watch him fight to keep his hope alive, and damn it hurts so bad. I’ve stood in denial with him for years. I’ve refused to talk about her and what happened. I’ve lived in limbo with him because it seemed like the easiest way to cope with the tragedy of what happened to her. Even now, after years have passed, I still can’t say the words, and neither can he. So much power hides in words, and once you speak them, you give them life, and you have to accept the truth that comes with them.

Hiding from the facts guarded my sanity for a long time, but now that I’m getting older, I know I can’t run from it forever, and neither can he. It’s just not right.