Page 85 of None Of Your Business

I bite back every furious response that rushes to the surface and give him the answer that will end the conversation fastest.

“I know. Thanks, Dad.”

He nods and moves on. “I hear you girls are dress shopping Friday. Bridesmaid stuff.”

“What?”

His eyes narrow. “For Madison’s wedding?”

Oh, shit.

How the hell did I forget about that?

Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem, except I have an appointment with Dr. Mercer on Friday.

“Ro?”

Whatever crossed my face, I clearly didn’t hide it quickly enough.

“It just slipped my mind. I can’t wait.”

“This is a big deal for your sister. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do.”

“I just want to make sure you’re keeping that in focus.” He moves the takeout bag to his other hand. “It’s just—you know how it gets. When something big is happening for one of your siblings, you tend to—”

“Tend to what?”

“Divert the attention.”

Of all the things he could have said, he has somehow landed on the one accusation I’ve spent most of my life trying to prove wrong.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I just stand there in the hallway of the house I grew up in and stare at him.

He must see something on my face because he gives a short, uncomfortable laugh. “Hey, I’m just teasing. You know what I meant. I just want to make sure you’re there and present for Madi.” He shakes his head, backtracking fast now. “That’s all. Madison deserves this. I want everybody showing up for her.”

I keep looking at him.

This is the man who taught me to ride a bike in the driveway when I was six. The man who used to carry me on his shoulders. I love him with an uncomplicated, bone-deep devotion you aren’t supposed to dissect.

That’s what makes this hurt.

Somewhere over the last several years, something shifted between us, and I don’t know if either of us noticed when it happened.

He still brings up, at least once a year, that I moved out when I was eighteen.

Rowan’s always been our independent one.

She’s mature for her age.

She needed her own space early.

He says it fondly.

He has no idea why I actually left.

I couldn’t breathe in this house anymore. Every aching joint, every dizzy spell, every time my body refused to cooperate had an explanation ready before I ever opened my mouth.