For the Love of a Daughter

RONNIE

~“Don’t you remember?”~

~I’m your baby girl,~

~How could you throw me right out of your world?~

~So young when the pain had begun,~

~Now forever afraid of being loved…”~

~– Demi Lovato~

***

“I was supposed to meet my dad at an astronomy conference,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper. It was the first time I’d spoken about that day, the day that had happened almost nine years ago.

“I had school that day, so I couldn’t go with him. He told me to come later and showed me how to get to the conference from my school. It wasn’t far.”

Frey was watching me, his gaze intense. I knew he was looking for cracks in my armor, but I didn’t let it bother me.

There was one more thing I needed to tell Frey, one more secret I needed to share before I could start to heal.

“After school, I started walking to the conference,” I continued, my voice barely audible. “I was on the main street, and the conference was just across the road.”

“I was waiting at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. My dad was on the other side, waving at me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I let them fall. It was okay to cry, especially when talking about my worst memory.

“The light turned green. I started to cross the street, not noticing that everyone else was staying put. I was so focused on getting to my dad that I didn’t see the car until it was almost too late.”

The memory was so clear in my mind.

Me, smiling and starting to cross the street. My dad’s eyes wide with fear, shouting something at me.

Me, not understanding what he was saying, just continuing to walk towards him.

Frey’s voice brought me back to the present.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice heavy with dread. I knew he had a feeling about what was coming next.

Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t care. I had to get this out. I had to say the words that had haunted me for years. So, I did.

“The car would’ve hit me,” I whispered, “I would’ve died. But my dad wouldn’t let that happen.”

“He jumped into the street, his face filled with terror. He pushed me out of the way and took the hit himself.”

My sadness turned into despair.

“He didn’t say anything. He didn’t warn me. He just acted. And when I should’ve died, he died instead.”

That was the heart of it all. I had tried to end my life because my dad had given his for me.

The guilt was too much to bear.

The grief was too much to handle. I felt so helpless, sitting there on the side of the road, barely hurt, watching some drunk asshole run over my kind, gentle, loving father.

The blood, the mangled body that I knew was my dad, haunted my dreams.

I’d locked those memories away when the nightmares became too much. I’d built a wall around them.

But even if I pushed the memories away, the guilt, the grief, the pain... they never left.

My dad was my world. I loved him more than anyone else. More than my mom. More than Andy. More than anyone.

He was always there for me, always knew what to say, always helped, always was the best dad a girl could ask for.

He was such a big part of my life that I couldn’t imagine losing him.

But then that day came, and suddenly my dad was gone. There was no one to protect me. No one to understand me. No one to love me like he did.

After he died, I realized that he was still in love with my mom, and that his death was a way for him to escape the pain he felt.

It hit me later that my dad was never selfish. Not with my mom, not with Andy, not with me. He was selfless.

He died saving me, but I think he also felt relief that he didn’t have to deal with the heartbreak anymore.

That experience taught me a hard lesson: love often ends in pain. My parents’ marriage wasn’t forever, and love didn’t last forever.

Being loved by someone would only lead to heartbreak and despair because, as Slater’s Bridge showed me, losing the one you love and the one who loves you can make you want to die.

When Jax told me we had a chance, I was too scared to take it.

I was scared because I knew that being with him, or anyone, would only lead to heartbreak. And the events of the last forty-eight hours proved me right.

Jax had lost control, and with alcohol clouding his judgment and his obsession with me, he tried to rape me.

That was all the proof I needed to know that keeping my distance was the right choice.

If I’d let him in, if he’d let me in, we would’ve ended up hurting each other and losing ourselves because even when we weren’t together, we couldn’t make it work.

I’d also kept other men at a distance for the same reasons. I couldn’t do love. It wasn’t in me.

Because the moment I fell in love, I would remember what love did to my dad, what almost-love did to Jax, and I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t your fault?” Frey’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I opened my eyes to look at him.

My tears had dried up by now.

“No, it wouldn’t,” I replied, my voice a bit flat.

“I know it wasn’t my fault. It was the drunk driver’s fault. I was just a young girl who wanted to hug her dad. My dad was just a caring man who wanted to protect his daughter. Neither of us were to blame.”

“But you feel guilty,” Frey said, cradling my face with his free hand. “You feel like you should’ve been the one to die instead of your dad. You feel like, in some way, it was your fault.”

“It’s been years, but you still can’t let go of the grief and guilt.”

He was right. Again.

“I know that,” I said, clenching my hand in his, then forcing it to relax. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I’m ready to work on that.”

Frey’s smile was tinged with surprise. “You seem stronger, Ronnie.”

I smiled at the sound of my old nickname, the one my dad had given me, the one I didn’t want anyone else to use. Now, I wanted everyone to call me that.

Not Nix, not Ver, not anything that reminded me of weak Veronica, but of determined Ronnie.

“If I break down again, I’ll end up in a mental health facility.” I told him.

“That’s true,” he said, his smile broadening. “I’m glad you’ve finally overcome that obstacle.”

I pulled my hand from his and lifted my arms.

“I need a hug,” I told him.

He laughed and leaned down, wrapping his strong, muscular arms around me. I wrapped mine around his neck and pressed myself against him.

His arms made me feel safe and secure, and the sweet smell of his hair conditioner made me want to bury my face in his hair, as strange as that sounded.

Still holding me, Frey said, “Once you’re better and out of here, we’ll start working on that determination of yours.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“But until then, there are some people you should meet,” he said, releasing me to look me in the eye. “Jax is out there too. Do you want to see him?”

That was a good question. Did I want to see Jax Cole? Was I ready to face him after everything that had happened? Even though I was Ronnie now, I wasn’t ready for that yet.

“I’d rather not,” I said, and laughed. “I think I need to cool down a bit from that incident before I can face him again.”

“Understood and respected,” Frey said gently. “I’ll send him away, then. In the meantime, I think you should talk to your family. Your mom and stepdad didn’t look too good. Oliver, too.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling a pang of longing deep inside me.

“Will you stay here with me?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too needy.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he promised, winking. “I can’t leave my favorite student alone, can I?”

I smiled. “No, you really can’t.”

Laughing, he stood up.

“I’ll let them know you’re ready to see them now,” he said, and then he leaned down to press a gentle, comforting kiss to my forehead.

I closed my eyes, the kiss filling me with a warmth that could have melted me if it were possible. Then Frey’s lips were gone and he was giving me one last smile before he left the room.

As I waited for my next visitors, I closed my eyes and let the warmth wash over me, even if just for a little while.