by Amy Brent
I screamed, rushing toward them and trying to stand in the way.
“Daddy, stop! I'm not a little girl anymore!”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” my dad said, staring at Julian and ignoring me. “Now.”
Julian didn't fight back. He simply nodded and picked up his clothing and threw them on – and started to leave, his head down, avoiding everybody's eyes. I could see the look of guilt, shame, sadness, and anger that was burning in his face. I started to follow behind him when my dad stopped me, grabbing me by the arm. He spun me around and stared at me. The demented, half-crazed look in his eyes hadn't abated and the fact that he was looking at me like he was unnerved me. I half expected him to punch me in the face like he had Julian.
“Let me go!” I demanded, fighting against his grip. “I love him!”
My heart stuttered in my chest and my blood ran cold. What was I saying? We hadn't said the L word yet – hadn't come close to it. But there I was, blurting it out like an idiot. Julian paused in the doorway, but he didn't turn around to look at me. I was now sobbing, my body racked with sobs, trying to get to him but my dad held on tightly and wouldn't let me go.
“I love him,” I repeated, hoping he felt the same way about me.
Maybe if he said it back, my dad would see – this wasn't just about his friend fucking me. He and I had something special and something wonderful building. Yeah, we were fucking like rabbits, but we were also getting to know each other on a deeper level. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me back so I could shove it in my father's face, show him that this was about a lot more than just sex.
But Julian didn't say another word. He just walked from the room silently and sullenly, his head down and his hands in his pockets. And my father wouldn't let go of me until we both heard the front door close behind Julian as he left the house.
As soon as he let go of me, however, I threw on my shirt and rushed down the stairs. I opened the front door, but it was too late.
Julian's car was already roaring down the driveway, pulling out onto the street and speeding away with a squeal of his tires.
Julian was gone.
My mom stood nearby, staring at me with her mouth hanging wide open. She looked at me, then up at the stairs at my father as if she was torn about what to do – comfort me, or back my father up.
“I love him,” I said a third time, this time for my father's benefit, not Julian's. “I'm a grown woman, free to do and feel what I want. And I love him.”
“You don't love him, Sabrina,” my father said, walking down the stairs. “You're too young – ”
“You're one to talk, you goddamn hypocrite,” I said, motioning toward my mother.
“She was in her thirties when we married, child – ”
“I'm not a fucking child, dad,” I screamed at him. “I'm an adult. I'm a grown woman who is fully capable of making her own choices about who to fuck and who to love, whether you like it or not.”
“He took advantage of you, sweetheart. He's an older man, you're a naive, younger – ” my father said.
His voice was softer, gentler. It was as if he were trying to connect with me. Get through to me. To see the deeper wisdom he obviously believed. The problem was, it was all bullshit.
“I'm not naive, and I was not taken advantage of,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me. “For your information, I'm the one who came on to him and made my feelings known. He resisted and tried to talk me out of it, but I wore him down. I persisted until I got what I wanted.”
My mom took the moment to speak up. “I agree,” she said softly, staring at my dad as she spoke. “If there's one thing that can be said about our daughter, she's not naive. And she has always been longing after Julian, Dave. You know this. You've known this ever since she was a teenager.”
“But he should have known better. He should have had the balls to tell you no,” my dad said. “How long has this been going on?”
“Long enough to know I love him, dad,” I snapped. “And that's all you're entitled to know. I am a grown woman, after all. I'm entitled to my own secrets.”
I no longer had any desire to speak with him. Just looking at him, remembering what he'd done to Julian made me sick. He made me sick and I wanted to be where ever he wasn't. I wanted to get upstairs to my phone and call Julian. After the bomb I dropped on him – saying I loved him – and the way my dad had talked to him, I needed to speak with him. I needed to make sure he was okay.
“Get back here,” my dad said as I walked up the stairs. “We're not done here.”
“Yeah, we are,” I snapped. “We're so fucking done, dad.”
I didn't even turn to look at him, it disgusted me to even think about looking at him in that moment. Instead, I flipped him the bird from behind as I reached the top of the stairs and went into my room, slamming and locking the door behind me.
I fell into my bed, the tears falling harder than before, as I reached for my cell phone. I dialed Julian's number but it went straight to voicemail. Not that I was entirely surprised.
What if this was it? What if it was over – before it even had a chance to begin?
No, it couldn't be, I cried to myself. It couldn't be over. It just couldn't. There was still so much to see, so much to do. There was so much to learn about one another and so many nights to spend together.
I loved him. I'd meant it when I'd said it, and I think, deep down, I might have always loved him.
I couldn't lose him now. Not when we were so close to something so special.
Chapter Nine
JULIAN
My phone buzzed, but I couldn't bring myself to look at who was calling. Besides, I already knew who it was bound to be. It was either Sabrina calling to talk about everything that had just happened. Or it was her father, threatening to kill me for sleeping with his daughter. Either way, I wasn't really up to talking to anybody at that moment. I just wanted to be left alone.
Not only had I lost my best friend, there was more going on that I couldn't comprehend. Like Sabrina telling me she loved me. Did she love me, really? Or was that something she was saying just to get under her father's skin? I couldn't deny that my fondness for her had grown immensely over the time we'd spent together. And I had to admit, I enjoyed her company more than I ever thought possible. But love? Could she love me? Or was it infatuation? A little girl's fantasy? And how did I really feel about her?
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 fri
end. 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.”
“Not so fast, Julian – let's take this all one step at a ti
me. But yes, we can talk. Tomorrow. And I promise not to throw any punches.”
“Fair enough.”
At that point, I wasn't really in a good position to bargain with the man. The fact that he was giving me the time of day to talk it out at all was more than generous.
All I could do was talk to him, see where it all went, and hope for the best.
Chapter Ten
SABRINA
“You coming down for dinner, sweetheart?” mom asked, peeking her head into my bedroom with a friendly smile.
“I'd rather not,” I said, flipping a page in my book. “I'll grab some leftovers later. Either that, or I'll just go out and grab something.”
My mother sat down on the bed beside me. “I know it's hard, Sabrina. Your dad is stubborn, sure, but he's also hurting. You're his baby girl and Julian was supposed to be his best friend. What happened between you two – he's struggling with it.”
“But we both know that Julian would never, ever take advantage of me, mom,” I said. “How long have you known him? Do you really think he's some sort of deviant sexual predator?”
“I know he's not. And I also know that you've been in love with him since birth, pretty much. It just took us all by surprise, that's all,” she said. “You never expect your daughter to end up with a man that's your age. Especially one who watched her grow up. I'm not saying it's right or wrong, I'm just saying that it takes a little time to adjust to the reality life throws at you sometimes. And you know your father – he sometimes doesn't do well with unexpected curve balls. Especially, when they're of a personal nature.”
I knew all of this. I understood it. “But it doesn't make dad's reaction right. Not at all.”
“No, it doesn't,” she said. “But it makes it more understandable, doesn't it?”
“Maybe so,” I mumbled. “But to keep me from seeing Julian? After I've told him a million times that I love him? That's an absolute dick move, if you ask me.”