If You Want Me (The Toronto Terror Series)

I keep my eyes on the floor and don’t say a word as my dad leads me to the car. His protective arm around my shoulder is shaking. I’ve only ever seen him this angry once before. When I was seventeen, I dated a guy who drove a sports car. He was an idiot behind the wheel and got into an accident with me in the passenger seat. I ended up with mild whiplash, but my dad lost it on the guy. Unsurprisingly, I broke up with him right after.

I’d been embarrassed at the time, but in hindsight, I understand my dad’s reaction. It’s one thing to be reckless with your own life; it’s another to be reckless with someone else’s.

But this is so different. So, so different. The very thing I was afraid of has happened. Almost a decade of friendship is at risk, and so is the health of the team—not to mention the damage I’ve done to my relationship with my dad. I’ve tried to be so perfect for him, to make everything easier—to not be a burden for him. Now I just ruined everything.

“Are you okay to drive?” I ask when we reach the car.

“I had one drink,” Dad grinds out between clenched teeth.

“You’re really angry, though.” I wish I could keep my voice from cracking, or the tears from falling, but I’m a mess. “And you punched a wall. You should probably have your hand looked at.” If he broke anything, I’ll never forgive myself. What if he can’t play the rest of the season because of me? This is all my fault.

“I’m fine, and my hand is fine. Get in the car, please, Peggy.”

I don’t argue. It’s not like I’m in any condition to get behind the wheel.

I slide into the passenger seat, wishing I’d handled tonight differently. It’s like my shame bucket is overflowing and drowning me in the process. If I’d been able to keep it together, this wouldn’t have happened.

The ride home is silent. I don’t want to set my dad off while he’s driving. All he’s ever done is love me unconditionally. He sacrificed so much for so long, and this is how I repay him? By fucking his best friend. I’m a terrible daughter.

He parks the car when we arrive but doesn’t make a move to get out. “I need you to be honest with me, Peggy. How long has this really been going on?”

“Since January,” I admit.

“What about before that? Did Hollis ever do or say anything to make you uncomfortable?”

“What? No.” But I did plenty of stuff that made Hollis uncomfortable. My dad would be so disappointed in me if he knew.

“Honey, it’s okay to be honest. You don’t have to lie to protect him.” His expression is pained, fearful even.

“Dad, that’s not—whatever you’re thinking…” I shake my head. It wasn’t Hollis I wanted to protect. It was me, and maybe my dad, too. From the anger, from the hurt, from this. “It’s Hollis, Dad. He’s your best friend.”

“I don’t even know who he is anymore. He went behind my back and put his hands on you.” His jaw clenches.

I twist in my seat, stomach in knots as I prepare to tell the truth. Afraid of the damage it will do. “You have it backwards, Dad. He tried to maintain boundaries, but I kept pushing.”

“He knows better!”

I jolt at his volume. I unbuckle my seat belt and step out of the car, needing space. He does the same. “I understand that you’re upset, but I am an adult.”

“He’s more than twelve years older than you! You spent months sneaking around behind my back!” The hurt on his face is bad enough, but the disappointment is more than I know how to handle.

“Twelve years isn’t an unreasonable gap.” And while it’s a piece of this shit puzzle, it isn’t the biggest issue, and I know it.

“You’re still in university!” He grips the back of his neck. “That’s not even the point! Why lie about it?”

“Because what if it didn’t work out? Plus, I knew you wouldn’t be okay with it, and you confirmed it when you said you would murder him! How was I going to tell you after that? I didn’t want it to mess with the end of your season or my exams!” I head for the elevator, and my dad follows.

“But it took you months to even bring it up! Hollis should have come to me first. Before anything happened.”

“Would it have changed your reaction? Would you have said it was okay if he had?” I press my fingers to my temples.

“You didn’t give me a chance to be okay with it, did you? Where did I go wrong? Since when don’t you trust me enough to tell me the truth? And how clueless am I that this was happening right under my nose and I didn’t even know?” He runs a hand through his hair. “What else have you lied about?”

I drop my head, unable to look him in the eye. I don’t want to tell him about the pink bedroom or anything else from over the years. That I didn’t love living in the off-campus apartments as much as I said I did, because he wanted me to have the full university experience he never had. I don’t want to tell him that for the first two years after I moved in with him that I kept a bag packed in my closet with all my favorite things in case he decided I was too much to deal with. But keeping these secrets has been so hard on my heart and it’s not fair to him. Or me. Lying to him is what got us here in the first place and my shame bucket is pouring over. Before I have a chance to speak, he lobs another question at me.

“What do you think will happen with you and Hollis, Peggy? What exactly is your plan?”

I shrink in on myself, feeling untethered. Like my whole world is breaking apart and I’m about to slide into one of the crevices. “We were going to date like normal people do.” Go out together. Be a couple. Tell our friends. Hope they understand. Hope my dad will eventually understand.

“You have faced none of the challenges that come with dating a professional hockey player. He will be gone half the year, Aurora. What kind of life will you have when your partner is never there?” Dad points out. “And Hollis couldn’t even stand up for what he wants when it matters. Neither of you could.”

“You lost it on us! You’re not even giving us a chance,” I argue.

“Like you gave me a chance?” He crosses his arms. “Obviously I’ve done a pretty shitty job of parenting you if you felt the need to hide a relationship from me. I’m just so…disappointed that you felt the need to lie. That you both did. Because it means I’ve failed you in some way. I didn’t protect you the way I should have.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, the tears falling faster now at that dreaded word. The one I’ve always tried to avoid.

I’ve done this to him, made him question himself. All because I wanted Hollis to choose me over him. Because I wanted everything to work out with school and playoffs before I ruined anything. Because I couldn’t be honest with him. “You didn’t fail me, Dad. I was afraid to tell you because I didn’t want to be the one who failed you. I broke your only rule.” I wring my hands, wishing I could step out of the shoes I’m stuck in. “I didn’t want to hurt you, or upset you, and I knew this would happen. I understand that you’re mad, I knew you would be, but how it makes me feel—” I choke on the words, on the fear. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me and you are.”

The doors slide open on the penthouse floor, and Dad waits, like he expects me to get off the elevator with him. He puts his hand over the sensor. “We need to talk this through.”

“Not tonight, please. Everything is super messed up, and I’m really worried about Hollis.” I’m on the edge of a complete emotional breakdown.

Dad’s face softens a fraction. “Peggy.”

My eyes burn with the threat of more tears. I hate that I can’t get a handle on my emotions. Everything I love is slipping through my fingers and I don’t know how to stop it. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with Hollis, Dad. And I’m so sorry that I did this to you, but right now my heart is in pieces. Please let me have some time to process that and fall apart.”

The elevator alarm starts buzzing obnoxiously.

“I love you, sweetheart. That will never change.” He removes his hand, and the doors slide closed before I have a chance to say it back.

I manage to make it into my apartment before I start bawling again. I pull my phone out of my clutch. I’ve been so wrapped up in my dad and his reaction to what was likely the worst possible way for him to find out about me and Hollis, that I’ve missed more than a hundred messages.

The group chat with the girls has blown up. But there are a few private messages as well.

Hemi

Hollis told me your dad took you home. He didn’t elaborate but the look on his face said it all. I’m so sorry. I hope you’re okay.

And don’t worry about the gala, everything was coming to a close. But if you need anything, just message.

Please provide proof of life at your earliest convenience.Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

I send her a picture of my feet on my coffee table and move to the next thread.

Rix

I’m on my way home in case you need moral support/ice cream/hugs.

She sent the message about twenty minutes ago, so she should be home anytime. That brings a fresh wave of tears. Thank God for Rix. She’s such a great friend. I move to the last thread, the one that scares me the most.

Hollis

I’m so sorry, Princess. This was the last thing I wanted to happen. Message me when you can talk.

I don’t know what that means, and I’m afraid to find out. Everything is falling apart.

Five minutes later, Rix, Essie, and Tristan walk through the door.

Tristan sighs. “Ah, fuck.”

Rix points a finger at him. “If you utter the words I told you so, Palmella and Fingerella will be your only source of pleasure for the next month.”

He holds up his hands. “I would never drop an I told you so.” His face softens as he turns to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I know things are messed up now, and it probably feels impossible.”

Rix sits on the couch beside me and passes me a box of tissues.

I pluck a handful and blot my face, even as the tears keep flowing. “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Hollis since my dad found out what’s going on. He’s just so angry, and he feels so betrayed. It’s such a mess.” I explain what happened, how my dad found us in the alcove and lost it.

“Hollis let your dad take you home?” Tristan asks. I don’t like that he’s wearing the same disappointed expression my dad did.

“He didn’t want to get between me and my dad, and it wasn’t an ideal location for a productive conversation,” I say defensively.

Tristan runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I thought he knew better.”

“What do you mean?”

“He should have manned the fuck up and really fought for you. I screwed that up before, too, though. So there’s hope yet,” Tristan offers, somewhat helpfully.

But Tristan’s words press a wound he doesn’t realize has never fully healed.

A knock on the door makes my stomach flip-flop. Everyone looks at me.

Tristan breaks rank first. “If it’s Roman, I’m not answering it.”

He might not want to give me space, but I can’t see him knocking on my door already.

Tristan puts his eye to the peephole, and a moment later, he flips the lock and throws the door open. “Dude.”

“I know.” Hollis stands on the threshold, his bow tie half undone, his hair a riotous mess. He looks worried and sad and broken, like me.

“Well, your face is still in one piece, so you’re ahead of me and Flip there,” Tristan says.

No one cracks a smile.

I’m not ready for whatever is coming. I’m terrified.

“Aurora, can we talk?” Hollis asks.

An ominous weight settles in my chest as four sets of eyes shift to me.

I nod, unsure if my voice will crack or not.

“We’ll be at Tristan’s. Text if you need anything.” Rix bends and kisses the top of my head. “Seriously, just text. We’ve got you.”

Essie, who’s been mostly a silent observer, hugs me. “Stay strong. We’re here when you need us.”

They file out, and Hollis closes the door, flipping the safety latch before he crosses over to the couch. He leaves space between us, and he doesn’t make a move to touch me. The lack of affection cracks my fragile heart.

“Are you okay?” His eyes close. “That’s a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. How are you and Roman?”

“He’s upset and blaming himself for being a bad father. I told him we both needed time to process.”

He runs his hands up and down his legs. “So he’s upset with you?”

“I understand his anger in a way I couldn’t before, but I’m an adult who can make my own choices. Even if some of them could have and should have been done differently.” My stomach churns, and my mouth is dry.

I wish Hollis would take my hand. I want him to wrap me in his arms and tell me we’ll figure this all out. That we’ll get through this.

He rubs his bottom lip, expression pained. “I should have been honest with him from the beginning. As soon as I realized I had these feelings, I should have gone to him.”

“But that isn’t what happened, so where do we go from here?” I ask.

He sighs, eyes on his hands, which are clasped in his lap. “We’re both in such transitional places in our lives, Aurora. You’re so young, and you have so much growing to do.”

The fissure in my heart deepens. I’m losing him. This is a breakup speech. He let me go home with my dad so he could take the time to prepare this. To end this. He’s not choosing me. Words like burden, too much, too hard, take up too much space in my heart and my head. I don’t trust my voice, so all I do is nod.

“The way I feel about you. I can’t—” He looks so sad, like he knows exactly what this will do to me. “Maybe in a couple of years when you’ve had time to settle into a career…” He pushes to his feet and paces the room. “Maybe that’s what we need.”

I can barely breathe around the pain in my chest. We have years of friendship behind us. We care about each other, and he’s not even willing to try to make this work? If he doesn’t think I’m worth the effort, then who will? Maybe he’s right, though. He knows how hard relationships are. Maybe I’m not ready for this. He would know better. I feel so foolish and empty.

I fight not to fall apart in front of him. “Why did we do all this then, Hollis? What was the point?”

He hangs his head. “I thought… I wanted it to be the right time.”

I bury my face in my hands, unable to keep the tears from falling. “Why did you let me love you?” I whisper against my wet palms.

“Princess.” He pries my hands from my face as he drops to his knees.

I try to stop the tears, but I’m too weak. They keep falling, and my heart keeps breaking.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

I push him away and swipe at the tears. “Keep your sorry, Hollis. I don’t want it.” I want to be worth it. I want to be his—to belong to him. To be his something real and true. I want him to fight for me, for us.

“Aurora.”

“You should leave.”

He doesn’t move, not right away. And I’m so close to losing it for real. “Now, please.” I don’t recognize my voice. It’s cold, detached, void of emotion.

He pushes to his feet. I keep my eyes on my hands, folded in my lap. It isn’t until I hear the soft snick of the door closing behind him that I grab the throw pillow next to me, bury my face in it, and sob my heart out.