“But…how? How did you know?”
“You told me once. One of those times we chatted the night away in my bed.”
I remembered now. One of the nights I’d crawled into his bed back at my dad’s apartment. I always worried I rambled on and on. I wouldn’t have blamed him for not listening. I was…very talkative in his bed for some reason. Probably because when I was talking it was easier to keep my hands to myself. I shook my head and smiled up at him.
“I can guarantee it won’t taste as good as your mom’s…”
“Are you kidding?” I ran into the kitchen. “Besides, it’s the thought that counts.” I piled my plate high with everything, being careful to pick away a few burnt pieces of monkey bread. “Really, how did you even know what monkey bread was? No one ever knows.” I put a big chunk of the sugary goodness in my mouth and practically groaned.
He smiled. “I just looked it up. It’s basically cinnamon rolls.”
“Only a million times better. This is fantastic.” Sure, it wasn’t quite the same. And he’d definitely forgotten to salt and pepper the eggs. But I was so overwhelmed by his sweetness that I almost burst into tears.
“And wait for it.” He grabbed a remote and hit a button. Christmas music flooded into the room. “May I have this dance?” He bowed and put his hand out for me.
I’d told him dancing around the kitchen with my mom was one of my favorite memories of her. But she and I had never done it on Christmas. We were too busy eating too many sweets and opening presents. But I had a feeling this was going to be a new favorite tradition of mine. I took his hand and laughed as he spun me in a circle.
Honestly, I never thought I could be happy again. But it was really hard not to smile as Miller dipped me low in the kitchen. He was about as good at dancing as he was at cooking. And I kind of loved that.
“There’s also a freaking ton of presents for you to open from your dad.”
I looked over at the pile of presents surrounding the tree. “I’d rather keep doing this.”
He smiled down at me as he attempted some dance move I couldn’t quite describe.
I started laughing.
This place felt a lot more like a home today. “I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away. I just…”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
I shook my head as I looked up at him. It wasn’t okay. I’d acted like I was in total isolation. Which wasn’t true. Not in the slightest. I had a great friend right here with me. No one had ever had my back the way Miller had. At least since my mom. I owed him everything and….crap. “Oh my gosh, Miller. I’m so sorry. I didn’t get you anything.”
He smiled down at me. “This right here is all I wanted.” He reached out and lightly brushed my bottom lip with his thumb. “Your smile.”
“Merry Christmas, Miller.”
His hand slid to the back of my neck as he looked down at me. For just a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. But instead he just smiled and dipped me to the music again. “Merry Christmas, kid.”
Chapter 18
4 Months Later - Sunday
I wrung out my hair and stared at the new shade in the mirror. I refused to go fully brunette. I didn’t want to look anything like Isabella, and I was scared if my hair matched hers that I might see her in my reflection. Instead my hair was now a mousey brown. And I’d cut it to right above my shoulders. I didn’t look anything like myself.
It was funny. I’d been trying to come up with the perfect plan to escape from my dad over the past few months. I thought that a change like this would have been my own idea. But my father was waiting in the living room for me to come out and show him my new look.
He’d wanted to move Miller and me for the summer. And I told him I wasn’t starting over again. I vehemently refused. He’d slowly been giving in more and more to me over the past few months. And after a lot of persuasion, he finally agreed to let us stay here as long as I didn’t look like myself anymore.
Which was easy. I didn’t feel like myself anymore. And now? I looked at the stranger staring back at me. I’d lost a lot of weight. My cheeks looked hollow. And now my hair was completely different. No one would recognize me. I barely recognized myself.
I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall.
My father set the newspaper down that he’d been reading. “That’ll do,” he said.
I sat down next to him on the couch. “So we can stay?”
He nodded.
I smiled, but resisted hugging him. I preferred to keep my distance from my father. Yes, he was being nice right this moment. But that could easily change. And I still didn’t trust him.
“No talking to strangers though, alright?”
“Stranger danger,” I said. “Got it.”
He laughed. “Exactly. So you’re excited to spend the summer here?”
I wouldn’t use the word excited. But Miller and I had kind of made this place our home despite the fact that it was our cage. I didn’t want to talk about my summer plans though. All I was going to do this summer was go for runs and dream of another life.
I cleared my throat. “You said you’d think about talking to Matt.” I’d brought it up enough times that I was pretty sure he was close to caving on this too. My dad and I had come to a mutual understanding. I wouldn’t throw a fit when he came. And he’d be nicer to me. Sometimes it was really hard not to want to scream at him though.
“I did.” He pulled out his phone. “I want you to be happy. And safe. That’s all I want.”
So…was that a yes or a no? I just stared at him.
“I gave this a lot of thought. And you’re right. Now that the dust has settled, maybe it’ll be okay.”
My heart started racing. “I can talk to him?”
My dad cleared his throat. “Sorry, I should have made myself more clear. I’ll speak to him. Or…I’ll try to.” He handed me the phone.
I looked down at the screen. I recognized Matt’s number. My father had sent him a text. He said he had something important to discuss with Matt.
And Matt hadn’t responded.
He’d said nothing at all in response.
That knife that had slowly eased from my chest over the past few months was back. Slowly twisting. I wanted to pretend it was because Matt didn’t know who was texting him. But my dad had said it was Mr. Pruitt. It reminded me of when my dad told me that Matt had said nothing at all at my fake funeral. Like I’d been completely erased from his mind. Like I meant nothing.
“Can you text him again?” I asked. “Maybe he didn’t see it?”
“I’ll try again soon.” He took the phone back and put it in his pocket.
My dad was a liar. I knew that. And yet…that was Matt’s number. Matt hadn’t responded. Wouldn’t he be desperate for news about me? I felt desperate every day. Although, maybe a little less now than I had at first.
I felt comfortable here with Miller. And safe, just like my dad wanted me to be. It was why I didn’t want to move to a new place. It was why I’d cut and dyed my hair to pacify him. I liked it here. Which I’d never expected to. I liked waking up to the sound of crashing waves and seagulls. I liked seeing Miller’s smiling face every morning. I felt…less empty now than I had when we’d first arrived.