But she wasn't a little girl anymore, that much was true and obvious. Perhaps we needed to stop thinking of her like she was. I'd learned that much over the past few weeks. Sabrina was all woman, all the time. But her father apparently never got the memo. Not that I blamed him. If I'd walked in on him sleeping with my daughter, no matter how old she was, I'd have punched him too. I wasn't angry with Dave, not at all. His reaction – though strong – was understandable. I wasn't mad. I was simply – sad. In mourning for a longtime friendship lost.
My phone continued to ring, and as I pulled up to my house, I looked at the display and saw that it was Sabrina. On a whim, I decided to answer it. Though I wasn't sure why – maybe I needed to hear a friendly voice amidst all this chaos.
“Julian,” she said, her voice hoarse from crying. “Thank God you answered. I'm so sorry – ”
“No, I'm sorry, Sabrina,” I said, wishing to be able to comfort her through the phone. “This is my fault. I should have--”
“Don't say it, sweetheart,” she begged me. “I can't bear to hear you telling me that you regret what we've done.”
My heart broke. “I wasn't going to say that, sweetie. I should have handled things better. Maybe I should have even talked to your father before he caught us – or something. I don't know.”
“He never would have listened, no matter what,” she said. “You know how he is. You know what an absolute asshole he can be.”
I knew that to be true, but what happened just didn't sit well with me. I didn't want to lose Sabrina, but I also didn't want to upset and hurt my best friend. At least, not anymore than I already had. There had to be a better way of going about this, of fixing this thing between us. I racked my brain but couldn't come up with idea one. If there was a good idea out there, I couldn't think of it. My mind was blank.
“To him, I'm always going to be a child,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I'm sick of it. I just want to be treated like an adult, you know?”
“He's your dad, Sabrina. You'll always be his little girl.”
“But he needs to let me grow up,” she said. “He needs to understand that I'm able to make my own decisions about things.”
That was true. I couldn't argue with that fact. Still, I did see her father's side as well. Maybe that's the reality of being her father's age – I could actually see his side of things, probably clearer than she ever would. I could relate to her dad in ways that she couldn't.
“What are we going to do?” she asked me. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
“We'll figure it out, Sabrina. Just give your father some time to cool down first, then we can see what happens. Maybe we can find a way to talk to him about everything that happened.”
She didn't sound too happy about that. “I just need to move out already.”
“Get a job first. Then talk about moving out. I want you to have the best possible start in life, Sabrina. I don't want you to struggle or scrape by.”
“Now you sound like my dad.” She chuckled slightly on the other end of the phone.
“Well, I am closer to his age than I am yours.”
“Very true. But you're not like him, Julian. Not at all.”
“I'm more like him than you know, Sabrina. But I'm not your father, and for that reason, you'll always see me differently. And I'm glad for that. I truly am.”
“Me too.”
She was already sounding happier, and hearing her cheering up made me feel a little better. I knew that I very likely lost my best friend, and I wasn't sure how I was going to continue carrying on with his daughter, but if Sabrina was going to be okay and get through this – well – I'd figure out a way to survive too. I always did.
“Julian? I meant what I said, you know.”
“I know,” I said gently. “I know you did.”
There was silence, almost as if she was giving me a chance to say it back. And in that silence, I heard the unmistakable sound of expectation. I knew she wanted me to tell her that I loved her too. But I didn't want to tell her I loved her like this. Not after an emotionally intense – and distressing – situation. And certainly not over the phone. If I did tell her that I loved her, it needed to be under better circumstances. Not over the phone. Not like this.
“I guess I better get going.” The sadness was back in her voice and it sent a lance of pain through my heart.
Closing my eyes, I tried to think of how I could reassure her. How I could let her know that I indeed cared about her. I settled on something sort of generic that probably wasn't as reassuring as I'd intended it to be.
“This isn't the end, Sabrina,” I said. “It doesn't have to be the end of things. You know that, right?”
“I hope not,” she said softly. “I couldn't bear losing you.”
Everything in me hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears from falling. “And I can't imagine losing you either, sweetheart. I really can't. Somehow, someway, we're going to get through this. Together.”
“I hope you're right, Julian.”
“Trust me.”
Chapter Nine
JULIAN
Sabrina and I spoke every night for the next few weeks, and it always killed me to be away from her. There were times when she was fighting with her father or stressed about a job interview, and I wanted to go over there to comfort her. Reassure her. Make her see and believe that everything was going to be okay. But I couldn't. I needed to keep my distance from her family, let them repair their relationship before I interjected myself into the mix again. Sometime, later on down the line, when Sabrina and her father had fully healed, we could see what happened between me and her dad from there.
Or at the very least, we could wait until Sabrina was out from under her parent's roof and on her own. Because that was my first, and worst mistake – we should never have slept together in her parent's house. Not after they'd taken me in as their guest. Not that I had much say in it, but looking back, I felt terrible about crapping on their hospitality by secretly sleeping with their daughter. It had been a low class, low rent thing to do. And for that, I was sorry and ashamed of myself.
Every night, before we'd get off the phone, Sabrina would tell me she loved me. Then she'd wait for me to say it back for a few, long, awkward moments, but I never did. She never stopped telling me, however, and for that, I was grateful. In the middle of the night, when I was alone in my hotel room, and eventually my own bed back at my finished house, I'd remember her and remember her sweet smile, and it kept me going.
I was tossing and turning late one night, unable to sleep, when my phone rang. I assumed it was Sabrina, calling back as she sometimes did when she couldn't sleep. I didn't bother checking the display when I grabbed my phone. I'd simply grabbed it and answered. I was surprised however, when it wasn't Sabrina's voice I heard, but a man's.
“Sorry if I woke you up,” Dave said quietly.
“You didn't wake me, I couldn't sleep anyway,” I said, sitting up in my bed. I was stunned, almost too stunned to comprehend what was happening. I was beyond shocked that Dave was reaching out to me. “What's up?”
“We need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” I said.
“My daughter insists she loves you and that I'm being ridiculous about all of this,” Dave said. “Am I?”
“I don't know if I'm a good judge of that, considering the circumstances. I wouldn't consider myself an unbiased source in the matter.”
“My wife agrees with her, mostly. She still thinks what happened and the way it all went down is pretty fucked up. But she thinks I'm being too hard on Sabrina too. She thinks I'm being an overly protective asshole. Which is the only reason I'm calling you right now. Let me ask you one thing, Julian – do you love my daughter? Was she more than just a good time for you too?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, unsure of how I should answer such a question. Either way, I was talking to my best friend about fucking his daughter. No matter what I said, I was still the asshole who'd not only slept with his daughter under his roof, but had damaged what had been a good relationship between Dave and Sabrina. The family was at war and that was my fault.
“She wasn't just a good time for me, Dave,” I said. “That much, I can promise you.”
“But do you love her?” he asked me.
Taking a deep breath, I decided now was as good a time as any to answer the question that Sabrina had been asking me too. It wasn't how I wanted it to come out – I actually wanted to be in front of her, looking into her eyes when I said it. But the whole situation was all kinds of fucked up and there was no idea scenario for any of us in this situation. I'd wanted to tell her in person, but I obviously wasn't going to get that chance.
“Yes, I do actually,” I said softly. “I love her very much.”
Dave was quiet for a moment before saying, “Well I guess that makes it somewhat better then. Or at least, not quite as fucked up.”
I wasn't sure how to respond to that, so I didn't.
Dave asked, “Can we get together sometime tomorrow and talk in person?”
“As long as you promise not to punch me again,” I said.
“You kinda deserved that.”
“Yes, I did,” I said. “I'll admit that I screwed up. But I'd like a chance to make things right. Not just between you and me, but with Sabrina as well. Because believe it or not, Dave, I have fallen head over heels in love with your daughter, and I'd really like the opportunity to tell her that, in person. If you'd be willing to let me.”