Forever with Me (With Me in Seattle, #8)(69)

“Some people just aren’t,” Dad says with a shrug. “But we never mistreated you. We didn’t hit you or yell at you or even punish you very often.”

I sigh and rub my hands over my face. “Why do I feel like I’m spinning my wheels?”

“Are you saying we’re shitty parents, Alecia?” Dad asks.

“Yes! And I want to know why you don’t love me!” I yell and stand, my hands in fists at my sides. “I want to know why you never held me, or said kind f*cking things to me! I want to know why you always sent me away rather than keeping me close to you!”

“Watch your language, daughter,” Mom warns sternly, but I just shake my head and pound my fist on the table.

“I didn’t deserve that!”

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Mom says with a sniff, her nose in the air, and I know that they aren’t going to answer me.

“Maybe,” I begin thoughtfully, “you’re just too self-absorbed to realize that you did anything wrong. Maybe it’s easier to live in denial, in your perfect little home, your perfect little bubble, and believe that you treated me well. But I came here to tell you that you didn’t. And that it’s not okay. It’s made me question myself my whole life.”

I sit back in the chair and clasp my hands together. “I’ve always wondered why I was so unlovable. What did I do? I ran into the arms of the first man—boy then—to show me attention, and I ran as fast and as far as I could when I graduated to escape the loneliness of this house. You don’t want to acknowledge that you’re shitty parents? Fine.”

I stand and lift my handbag. “You were shitty parents. But I love you, because you’re my parents.”

I turn to leave, but when I get to the kitchen door, I turn back to them. “If you ever want to have a relationship with your only daughter, you call me. I’m not going to chase after your love. I’m not going to beg for it. For the first time in my life, I’m at the top of someone’s priority list: mine.”

On shaky legs, I walk through the home of my childhood, out the door and to my car. It takes me three tries to get the key in the ignition, but I finally pull away, breathing hard, trembling, but so f*cking proud of myself.

It’s about time I stand up for myself.

I get to the end of the block when my phone rings.

Jules.

I send it to voice mail and shake my head. I cannot deal with talking to any of the Montgomerys today.

Instead, I search for another contact and press send.

“Alecia?”

“Hello, Jonathan,” I reply and clear my throat. “Would you be willing to meet up with me for breakfast tomorrow?”

“You’re in San Francisco?”

“Yes.” No, I want you to fly your dumb ass to Seattle and meet me there.

“Where?”

“Our diner, nine o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.” He pauses. “Are you okay?”


“I’m going to be.” I end the call and point my car toward my hotel. The phone rings again.

Unknown Number.

“Fucking telemarketers,” I mumble, and send it to voice mail, and no sooner does the phone ring again.

Jules.

“What?” I snap.

“Um…hello.” I can hear commotion in the background. People laughing.

“Sorry, Jules. What can I do for you?”

“Well, we’re having a family dinner, and Jax and Logan are here, and they’ve decided to get married in two weeks, which I know is short notice, but we want to make sure that if you can’t help plan, you can at least come to it.” She pauses to take a breath and I can hear someone—Sam?—yell, “You better bring your sexy ass to it!”

Oh, hell no.

“I’m sorry, Jules, I’m quite sure I have an event that day.”

“No, you don’t. I talked to Emily.”

“Then why did you just ask if I did?”

“Well, I’m polite, aren’t I?”

I can’t help but grin.

“If there’s no event, it must be because I have something else going on. Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m going to have to decline.”

I can hear movement, and the background noise lessening until it’s nonexistent, and then Jules says, “Okay, cut the shit. What is going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t sound like yourself at all. You sound…sad. Talk to me, friend.”

She just had to throw friend in there, didn’t she?

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be at one of your family’s parties right now, Jules.”

“What did my idiot brother do?”

I frown and park at the hotel. “Who said he did anything?”

“I’m not stupid, Alecia. Talk to me.”

I take a deep breath. My nerves are already shot from my visit with my parents, and I haven’t slept in days. To my horror, I feel my eyes fill with tears.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out between your brother and me.”

“Why?” Jules asks in a soft voice. “I think you’re perfect together.”

“I need to be with someone who makes me a priority, Jules.”