| CHAPTER FIFTY
| you love him

ɴᴏʟᴀɴ ᴍᴜʟʟᴇɴ

"Dad?"

He looked up from his laptop, taking his reading glasses off as I sat down at the opposite end of the dining table. He took hold of his coffee mug, but he didn't take a sip yet.

"Do you need me to drive you to your audition?"

"No, I actually wanted to ask if I could drive myself," I said. He frowned, now bringing the mug to his lips.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" he asked, placing his coffee back down on the table and returning his eyes to the laptop screen. "I think it's better if I drive you."

I rolled my eyes. This was how it went for the past week. I'd ask either of my parents if I could leave the house, but the answer remained no. I couldn't leave alone, I couldn't leave with Oakley. I wanted to go on that date, but if my dad wouldn't even let me go to work by myself, how could we arrange that one night out?

"Have I not proven myself enough?" I asked, sitting down at the opposite end of the table. I didn't see any reason for my parents to keep following me around like a child. All my tests had been clear. "Why can't you trust me?"

My dad looked at me again, his eyebrows still set in a frown.

"This isn't about me not trusting you."

"Then what else is it about?" I asked, my jaw tensing. I had been stuck in this house for over a month now, and I needed some freedom again. I was suffocating under the constant surveillance my parents had put me on. "What do you want me to do so I can just start living my life again?"

"It's not you, Nolan. I trust you." A line formed between his eyebrows as he said the words. "But the paparazzi will be on your back."

"Then why do I still have to take those stupid tests?" Twice a week still. It was better than twice a day, but it still went to show that they did not trust me. What were they so afraid of, after proving time and time again that I was sober?

My dad closed the laptop, and it made a loud clapping noise. He didn't even glance at the thing. He only rubbed his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose, his elbow resting on the table as he let out a sigh.

"I told your mom it was enough with those," he said, shaking his head.

"No," I said. Now he was shifting the blame, but my problem was still there. I had to take a drug test twice a week, and I was not allowed out of the house without guidance. And I still hadn't gotten a proper explanation why. Maybe I could understand if only he would talk to me. "You don't get to redirect the conversation. Why do you not trust me?"

My father's muscles tensed as he looked anywhere but at me with nothing but anger in his eyes.

"Why are you so adamant about leaving the house?" he asked in a raised voice, his fists on the table as he stood up. "You screwed up!" he yelled, enunciating every word very clearly as though I was a child.

It wasn't often that I saw my dad angry, but he had a kind of eerie calmness to him even as he yelled, making everyone around him want to shut up. But he was still my dad, so his temper did not scare me.

"I was fifteen," I said, matching his tone. I was calm, but my voice was raised too. Things were different on the inside though. I wanted nothing more but to scream and throw myself on the ground like a kid. But it never worked back then. Obviously it wouldn't work now. "You put me in this world only to neglect my existence. I might've screwed up but you... you really fucked up."

"You're right. I made a mistake," he said, sitting back down. I watched him with narrowed eyes as I waited for him to continue speaking, because although his body language told me this conversation was over, his tone told me the opposite. "Wish I never had kids."

Tears welled up in my eyes involuntarily as I watched him stare at his laptop screen, taking another sip of his coffee like he hadn't just told me he never wanted me.

I waited for what felt like an eternity for him to tell me that he was sorry, and that he loved me, and that he hadn't meant it in that way, but he wouldn't even look at me.

I wiped away the droplets off my chin and nose with my chair scraping over the tile floor as I also stood up, the noise echoing through the house.

"I hate you!" I yelled, for the first time in years releasing the voice of the little kid who never got looked after, who wished for someone who loved him, who sought it in strangers but never found it. The little kid who tried so hard to be perfect, so at least the world would love him.

One mistake, and all of it was now lost.

I rushed to my room, rummaging through my closet to find an old sports bag I hadn't used in years. I filled it with the first things I could find, not even checking whether they were clean or not. I packed without thinking, inevitability missing some stuff in my outrage, but not forgetting about the two most important things I was going to need; my car keys and my phone.

I wiped the last remaining tears away as I ran down the stairs, running past the kitchen, but my dad had since moved from his spot behind his computer to hold up the door.

He had his arms crossed, glaring at me like I had wished him dead. I couldn't help but feel like it had all been an act. From the moment he came to me with teary eyes because he was a concerned parent, up until now. It was all a lie. He never cared.

I went around him, holding onto the doorknob, but he put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm not a good parent, Nolan. I've never been one."

"Yeah, no shit. Now let me go," I said, adjusting the strap on the bag before pushing past him.

"Nolan—"

I slammed the door behind me.

•••

I watched Oakley as he walked out of the building, not noticing my car as he talked with Hanna. Only when they separated ways did he see my car standing there, and he frowned as he walked towards me.

He opened the door to my passenger seat and sat down.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Thanks, babe, I'm happy to see you too," I said, rolling my eyes. It got him to smile, which already made my day a little bit less miserable than before.

"I was about to go to your place. I wanted to catch you before your audition. I didn't think your dad would let you go out by yourself."

"He didn't," I admitted.

"You snuck out?"

"No," I said. He didn't ask me to elaborate, because he understood that I didn't want to. I wanted to forget all about today and pretend things were normal. "Can I stay at yours tonight?"

"Are you sure you want to? My parents will be home."

"I don't think I have another option."

He stared at me, his eyebrows drawn together as though squinting his eyes would help him look into my mind to uncover what had happened. But he still didn't ask. Instead, he only nodded.

"If that's what you need."

I forced a smile on my face, not wanting him to think this was a big deal.

"Thank you, Dimple," I said, and he groaned dramatically.

"You just can't let it go, can you?"

"No. I think it's your most beautiful feature. Apart from this." I ran my fingers through his hair, and he pushed my hand away as I tried to mess it up.

"You're so mean!" he said, but he couldn't fight the smile playing on his lips as I laughed. "But I'll allow it because you're you."

He secretly liked it. Me annoying him was the only kind of affection I could show him in public, so he took it.

"Are you okay with leaving your car?"

"Yep," he said, buckling up. "Let's go."

•••

I was tense as I drove towards his house. With the things the media had been saying about me, I couldn't help but worry about what his parents might've picked up. I gripped the steering wheel tightly as I pulled into his driveway, and let out a sigh of relief as I realized there weren't any other cars.

"What time will your parents be home?" I asked.

"My mom should be home around three, and then she'll do some administrative stuff in her office. My dad... I don't know. Whenever he decides. Not usually before three either. My sister should still be at school."

He unlocked the front door, and immediately upon entering, he pressed held my cheeks and pressed a kiss against my lips.

"Finally."

I leaned in again, letting the kiss linger a bit before pulling away again.

"Yeah. Finally."

He entwined our fingers and guided me up to his room, which was a lot neater than mine usually was. I hadn't been here since before we really started dating, so it was odd seeing his room in this different light.

Every corner of his room showed a piece of his personality. The different instruments on the walls reminded me of how sentimental he could be, the same reason why I hadn't seen him without his bracelet since I'd given it to him. The fact that it was so neat without him expecting me reminded me of how much of a perfectionist he could be, like when he showed me that song at Genevieve's release party and he wasn't content with it because I didn't get goosebumps. And then of course, when I let myself drop onto his bed, I watched the starry ceiling lights. They reminded me of how creative he was, and a little bit of a know-it-all for including the constellations, which he once told me he calculated to get the most accurate representation.

He lied down next to me, watching the stars along with me. The silence was comforting, making me feel safe. Just by sitting here in silence, he proved to me that he liked my presence. He didn't see me as a burden or an obstacle in his life. He wanted me here.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. I felt his eyes bore into the side of my face as he asked the question. He was worried, I could tell.

"I think so," I admitted. I was still angry, and a little sad and confused, but I wasn't angry or sad or confused because of Oakley. He helped me mask those feelings with serenity.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

I shrugged. I wasn't sure I could talk about it without the anger rushing back to disturb me.

"Did you get into an argument with your dad?" he asked. Of course he knew it was my dad's day 'babysitting' me, and he knew I wouldn't just leave without any reason. He cared about the details because he cared about me.

I nodded and turned my head to look at him. For a moment I was startled by our proximity. His eyes were usually like deep pits of darkness, but from this up close it was easier to distinguish his irises from his pupils.

"I told him how I felt they wouldn't trust me, and it just sorta exploded from there."

He nodded, covering part of his face to cast a shadow to protect him from the sun shining right in his eyes.

"What was said that made you storm out?"

"What makes you think I stormed out?"

"You look angry. You get this little wrinkle right here whenever you're angry," he said, pointing at a spot on my forehead. "And your nose flares out a little."

"He told me he never wanted kids."

Oakley frowned, removing his finger from my forehead. "That's not cool."

I shook my head, looking back up at the stars.

"I thought things would get better. My dad being there was the one silver lining of the whole situation."

"It looked like he wanted things to get better," Oakley told me. "Maybe he didn't mean it like that? Maybe it came out wrong?"

"That's what I thought. So I waited for him to apologize, but instead he told me he wasn't a good dad. So I guess that sums it all up."

Even Oakley didn't know how to comfort me anymore as a few tears rolled down the side of my face. He held my hand and squeezed it lightly as I used my free hand to wipe the tears away.

"I hate him," I said, leaning into my boyfriend's chest as the tears continued flowing.

What made me so unworthy of my own parents' attention?

"No. You don't hate him," Oakley said softly,

I looked up from his chest, watching his eyes as they had become a little more glossy than they'd been before.

"No," Oakley said, shaking his head. "Those words wouldn't hurt coming from someone you hate. You love him, that's what makes it so bad."

Maybe he wasn't wrong, but I didn't want to care about someone who wished for me to not exist. I didn't want his words to hurt me.

"We'll talk to him soon," Oakley said. "Together."

I nodded. "Okay. I love you, Oakley."

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling my head back down into his chest before pressing a kiss to the crown of my head.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

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