[COMPLETE]
When Hanna Haddad embarks on what's supposed to be another uneventful summer as a lifeguard on Cape Cod, a trip to the past comes as an unnerving surprise. The discovery of her estranged mother's journal opens up the world of tragedy and...
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"You're leaving already?"
Hauling the last bag to my car, I found my father blocking the door to the garage. One hand rested against the white doorframe, while the other reached for my arm. I recoiled and hugged my small duffel bag to my chest, not wanting any more of his blinding affection.
"School starts in five days," I said, trailing my eyes up to his face. I looked into his plain brown eyes and noticed he'd taken off his glasses. Without them, he looked like a different man, but one I still hated. "You already knew that."
"I guess I'm just going to miss your company..." He stared at the clock on the microwave, finding it hard to look at me. "Hanna, I know you're angry—"
"Why?" I dropped my bag onto the floor with a thud and took a step forward. "Just why, Dad?"
He swallowed. "I don't have an answer to that."
I huffed, expecting no better from him. "I spent so many years. So many years not having a goddamn clue who was right and who was wrong. But I chose you, Dad. Hell, I idolized you. I believed all your lies, about Mom, about your marriage, but I now realize you might have believed them, too."
"I'm sorry," he breathed, dropping his head. "I'm so sorry."
I held up my palm. "Don't. That's the second stupidest word out there."
He lifted his head, eyes red and glassy. They stirred nothing inside me: no empathy, no pity. Why pity a man who had everything in the world but wished only to destroy it?
"What's the first?"
"Love," I spat. "You don't love me, Dad. You never did."
He squeezed his eyes shut, gripping the edge of the doorframe with white fingertips. My words pained him, but they paled in comparison to the pain of betrayal. "That's not true, Hanna. I love you. I love you so much."
"Why would you betray me then? Feed Mom all those lies over the years? That I didn't want to see her or know her? Why would you take my own mother from me...when I was only a child?" My voice cracked, reaching an octave it only hit in the worst of times. "How could you have done that to me, Dad, if you loved me?"
"I never knew how to be a good husband," he remarked quietly, looking away. "I wasn't cut out for marriage, Hanna, but God knows how much I wanted you when you were born. Your mother didn't."
"That's not true," I said, leaning my elbows on the doorframe behind me. I wasn't sure which of us was going to collapse first. "Mom didn't want to get pregnant at the time she did, but she wanted me."
"What's the difference?"
"You," I hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. "She didn't want a baby from you because of you. All you wanted was the perfect housewife, to use and love at your convenience. Just tell me I'm wrong, Dad." A long period of silence ensued, interspersed with heavy breaths trying to escape our nostrils. Eventually, I shook my head and finished for him, "You can't."
