The Fleeting Happy

Seventeen

"Rory, I'm home— Rory! Oh, my God. What happened?"

My mother's voice was the last thing I wanted to hear in that moment. She'd stepped into the kitchen and must've seen the broken glass and the smudges of crimson on the tiles. She immediately dropped her purse and took off her pea coat and rushed towards me, but I backed away from her warily.

"Where's dad?" I asked her, my voice teetering dangerously.

"What?" Mom asked, her brows knitting in confusion. "Honey, he's in Atlantic City—"

"I said, where's dad?" I repeated. This time, she must've understood what was happening or what might've happened, because the confusion was gone from her eyes. Now, she just looked cautious. It infuriated me. "TELL ME THE TRUTH!"

Mom flinched. "Rory, sweetheart—"

I angrily pressed the button on the answering machine to make the voicemail from Dr. Weiss play again. "Good evening, this is Dr. Gregory Weiss calling from the psychiatric ward of New Eden General Hospital, in Atlantic City, New Jersey..."

"You knew this whole time, didn't you?" I demanded, my voice cracking. I laughed mirthlessly the moment I saw the look of realization and horror dawning on her face. "You knew he wasn't okay. You knew he was in some mental asylum somewhere. But you didn't care, did you? You didn't tell me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Rory, it's more complicated than you think," Mom said firmly, steadying her shaky voice. "You're too young to understand—"

"That my father tried to kill himself and no one thought to tell me?" I fired.

Mom was silenced.

"Stop treating me like I'm too young to understand," I growled. "Maybe I'm supposed to be too young to understand, but thanks to you, I think I've got a pretty good idea. You know how unfair it is? That I'm the only one looking out for him? I don't care that you don't love him. I don't care that you don't give a damn. But I do care when you prevent me from loving him. You want to lie and deceive? Fine. Go ahead. Have fun lying to yourself, because I'm going to Atlantic City."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Mom seethed. "Rory, come back here! Listen to yourself! You sound insane! Your father is fine. We both agreed—"

"I don't care!" I trilled, tears beginning to stream down my face. "Stop talking, stop talking, just STOP TALKING! All he's ever done was love you, why can't you just love him back?" I found myself breaking down in tears, horrible cries catching in my throat and making me blubber like a little girl. "DADDY COULD'VE DIED AND YOU DON'T EVEN CARE!"

"I do care—"

"STOP TALKING!" I screamed. "It's what you're good at, huh? Silence, when you realize that you're the one who's wrong and everyone else is right?" I smiled bitterly through the tears.

"Rory..."

I tried to push past her, but she clutched onto my shoulder. "Rory, I just didn't want to hurt you. You have enough to worry about, I didn't want you to know what happened. I was trying to protect you. I love you so much—"

"Save it," I snapped, limping past her.

"You know, he didn't tell you either," she said, stopping me in my tracks.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists.

And then I kept going.

I had forgotten that Greene was still asleep in my room. But it was a good thing he was still here. Maybe I couldn't drive all the way to Atlantic City with my learner's permit, but Greene with his actual license certainly could. He even had his truck parked out in the driveway. It was perfect.