“Ames? Are you okay?” That’s all it takes—my father’s genuine concern for his daughter’s well-being—and I shatter like a cheap vase.
I let my head fall back against the wall with a light thud, reminding me of my hangover, but I can’t find it in myself to care about my headache right now. I sink to the floor, tears streaming from my eyes. I lift my arm to wipe them on the sleeve of my sweater when I realize it’s actually Owen’s sweater. I hadn’t even realized I was wearing it until now, and the memory of him handing it to me in his car last night comes rushing back.
“I messed up, Daddy,” I confess with a sob, sniffling when my nose starts to run.
There’s a moment of silence before I hear chair legs being pulled across my dad’s dining room floor. “What’s going on?” he demands, his voice firm yet comforting. I can’t bring myself to tell him anything more, afraid of how he might react. He sighs. “Ames… Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Another pause. “E-even if it’s about Owen.” His hesitance is audible.
I glance back to Owen’s door again before sighing in defeat.
“Honey, talk to me,” he prods, sounding even more concerned, and finally, I cave.
Like he’s always done whenever I’ve come to him with a problem, he listens with an unbiased ear. He lets me say my piece, relieving my shoulders of the weight I’ve been carrying around all morning, and then I wait in nervous silence for him to say something. I anticipate his reaction based on how he originally felt about my relationship with Owen, and I mentally prepare myself for it.
He sighs again. “Do you really want to know what I think?”
Do I? I ask myself. I suppose I wouldn’t have poured my heart out to him like that if I didn’t. “Yes?” I still don’t sound sure, though.
“Okay. I’m going to do my best to set my issues with your relationship aside in an attempt to move forward.”
“Of course,” I reply, desperate and nervous to hear what he might have to say.
“Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to repair, Amy. And that’s under normal circumstances. For Owen… His is going to be harder to gain and hold onto, given what Gretchen did to him.” He stops talking for a minute, maybe trying to figure out how to get the rest of his point across. “The fact is, Owen is an old-fashioned guy. We don’t think the same way your generation does—especially after being burned by past relationships. We have a different set of boundaries and expectations of our partners.”
“Okay,” I say, wiping the tears from my cheeks before they dry there.
“Do I think he overreacted when he hit Justin? I wasn’t there, so I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think he was completely unjustified. He saw the woman he is in a committed relationship with—a relationship you both fought so hard for—dancing intimately with another man, and it reminded him of everything he stands to lose. You’ve both been so damn busy running around and trying to defend your relationship to those outside it that you’ve failed to talk about the things that could bring it all crashing down around you.
“In theory, you’ve accepted your age difference—defended it with everything you have—but I think Owen being afraid of losing you to someone far younger than he is, as well as your total lack of consideration for how Owen might feel about last night and how he could compare it to his ex-wife is proof that you haven’t.”
“Dad,” I try to interrupt, feeling conflicted. On one hand, I feel a bit slighted that he isn’t flat-out taking my side, but on the other, I am impressed that he is trying to remain an unbiased third party.
“I’m not finished,” he says, effectively silencing me. “Owen craves consideration after everything Gretchen put him through. He spent years with someone who walked all over him, so I think he’s due.”
His assumption offends me. “I-I consider him.”
“Do you, Ames? I’m not trying to sound mean, but you kicked him out before he could really explain how he feels? Yes, I get that he compared you to Gretchen, and, honey, I know that must have hurt, but did you stop to think about why he might have said those things? After everything he’s been through?” I don’t answer, but he knows what my response would be anyway. “His trust isn’t easily earned, and even though what Justin and you did would have never gone further than just dancing, Owen’s state of mind is extremely fragile.”
“I know. I get that now,” I assure him. “I acted hastily when I kicked him out. I know I owe him an opportunity to explain himself.”