Perfect Ruin

15. Downhill

As I push through the front door, I stride over to the edge of the patio and crumble against the foot of the stairs. Tears pour down from my cheeks and I make little attempt to wipe them away. My cheeks are red and my eyes are swollen and my heart is squeezing and clenching the life out of me, making it not only hurt emotionally, but physically too.

The words that broke me echo in my head like a song on repeat, except that it was a song I truly loathed and I was forced against my own will to listen to it.

Sometimes I wish you weren't my daughter.

My dad didn't just say it, he exclaimed it. As if he'd been harboring those words for a long time and when I finally pushed him to his limit, he exploded.

I never liked my dad. And especially after what he did to mom, my hatred for him grew even more. But I never truly hated him. How could I? After everything that he's done, I can't deny that he's still my dad.

And no matter how much I say I don't love him, a little part of me knows for certain that that's just a lie. A stupid lie to cover up how much he has hurt me.

It's awful—despite how screwed up our parents are, we'll always harbor love for them. Whether we want to or not.

There is a burning need for me to talk to someone about this. My first instinct is to call Jax and tell him about what happened with my dad. I slide my phone out of my pocket and dial his number but as my finger hovers over the call button, I hesitate.

I know exactly what he'll say to me.

You shouldn't care about this, princess. Screw your dad, alright? He doesn't understand you. Nobody understands you but me.

Once, those words would have comforted me. But not tonight. I just want him to say that it's going to be okay, that once my dad calms down, I'll get to fix things between us again... but I know for sure that I won't ever hear Jax utter those words to me because he isn't like that. It's not in his nature to fix things.

It's in his nature to destroy.

"S-Sienna?"

I don't turn around. I hug my knees together and press my cheek on top of them, wishing that the silent tears will erase the past thirty minutes. I hear footsteps etching closer and an all-too familiar figure as she takes the steps and sits beside me.

Beth looks at me, wide-eyed filled with curiosity and sympathy. I can tell she wants to reach for me—to hug me or pull me closer to her—but she doesn't. She knows all too well that it will only make matters worse for me.

"I h-heard what happened with you and dad," she mumbles quietly. "I didn't mean to but the s-screaming was so loud."

"It's okay," I say. "I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood was listening."

Beth didn't have anything to offer in response to that. She just shrugs. "I'm s-sorry. About what he said to you."

"You don't have to apologize for him."

"I know, but I still feel p-pretty bad about what he said. It must be awful."

Yeah, well no shit.

"It's fine. I'm over it." I sniff.

"You don't look over it."

"I said I'm fine, Beth. Leave it alone." I can't help but snap at her. But to my surprise, she doesn't flinch.

"I know you're a-angry. But I'm going to stay here when you feel like you're r-ready to talk about it," she murmurs, squeezing her legs together. "Maybe you d-don't want to talk to me right now. Maybe you want to talk to Bray?"