I nodded. “My choices are mine to own…” Then my voice died out and tears sprang to my eyes. I took a deep breath and released it. Even my throat stung. “It’s easy to throw things away when you don’t think they’re very valuable in the first place.”

His face clouded. I blinked, trying to keep my tears from spilling over.

“Why would you think that?”

I looked up at him. “You tell me.”

His gaze intensified and he rubbed a hand along his jaw. I knew he didn’t know what to say to me.

“It’s okay. You’ve got your perfect family waiting for you at home. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

He hissed out a breath like I’d just punched him in the stomach. I looked away, and a lone tear spilled down my cheek. “What do I need to do to show you that I love you, April? I love you every bit as much as Sarah and Daniel. I don’t get where this is coming from. I pay—”

“I don’t want your bank account. I want you. Ever since I was a kid, you were never there for me. You always pawned me off on someone else. Oma or the nanny or my mom, and eventually, Rebekah. But never what I needed. Never you.”

He looked stunned. “I didn’t think I could give you what you needed. I thought a woman—”

“You thought I wouldn’t want you because my mom didn’t.” My fists closed, knotting with the frustration that I felt.

He grimaced. “Your mother and I were a disaster. I never, ever wanted any of that to affect you.”

The tears were now flowing freely down my cheeks. How could he be so smart and yet so clueless about the people who loved him most? “But it did, Daddy. Because neither one of you wanted me.”

Alarm crossed his features and he shook his head. “How could you think that? I’ve never said—”

My lip trembled, and now I just didn’t care if he saw me lose it. I’d found the courage to speak up to my mom. Now it was time to do the same with my dad. Only this was scarier, because I cared far more about losing any relationship I had with my dad than the nominal one I’d had with my mom.

“I tried to call you…” I began faintly.

“When?”

“I was in San Diego at Comic-Con. She called me from Vegas to tell me she’d just married Gunnar.”

His features chilled. I’d ended up having to inform him about Gunnar and my mom via email a few weeks later. He hadn’t said much. My dad didn’t often discuss my mother, likely for fear that he would say something negative about her to me.

“I got your assistant and you never called back.”

“I’m sorry. I told you in the email. I didn’t realize how urgent the message was. I’m not perfect, April.”

“You’re not there. Period.” I shook my head, continuing on. “I needed to talk to someone who would understand. Anyone. Because you don’t have to put up with her shit anymore, Dad. I do.”

He held up a helpless hand. “There is nothing I can do that can change that.”

“Yes, there is. You can be there for me.”

I sighed, feeling defeated. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. I just wanted him to turn on the ignition and drive. It hurt too much—and like always, I was afraid if I told him how I really felt, I’d lose whatever love he had for me, such as it was.

“You’ve never told me any of this before.”

I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I was afraid to.”

He frowned. “I didn’t raise you to think like that—”

“You didn’t raise me,” I said, my voice low in my throat. My dad flinched, but he said nothing. “Neither did she, and I finally stood up to her. It’s time I did the same with you.”

“So this is what it’s come down to? Some cliché? The slutty girl with daddy issues—”

I held up my hand. “Stop right there. I’m not a slut and I am not ashamed of myself. I made a bad decision—but that has nothing to do with my having sex. If I were your son, you’d be congratulating me for that.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger through his lids. “I’m sorry,” he said in a voice thick with emotion—more emotion than I’d ever heard from him. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“I’m sorry too…I’m sorry you’re ashamed of me. But I’m not ashamed of me, and that is what’s most important. Not what you think. Not what Rebekah thinks. And definitely not what my mother thinks.”