I try to clench my jaw and hold still to hide my reaction. The day will never come that his name alone doesn’t cause every muscle in my body to tighten with regret. It was an accident. I know it, but it doesn’t change the consequences. Bad things happen all the time as a result of an accident. Gavin died. He was a good person. My mom died. She was a good person. Megan’s baby died. He was perfect and completely innocent. But my father—the opposite of good and innocent—still walks the earth.

So. Fucking. Unfair.

“I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I unknowingly slept with a married man. I’m sorry I tried to poison you. I’m sorry you got roped into taking Swarley and me on your special road trip. I’m sorry for every second of inconvenience, for the oxygen I stole from your sacred little bubble.”

“I never asked for an apology.”

“I’m not apologizing for you. I’m apologizing to you.” She turns her back to me, once again, staring at the black and white photo.

I just want to hold her and make things right.

After a minute or two of silence, her posture deflates. “Part of me wishes I would have known you when this photo was taken. I would have loved to have been the girl waiting in your corner. I would have loved to have known that Jake … the fearless one who didn’t hold onto his anger. This …” She steps closer to the photo.

“This was the stripped-down version of you. This was your acoustic song. I know this because when I left Megan’s house, I felt like how you look in this photo—battered. Nearly broken. Exhausted. Unrecognizable. But…” she turns back toward me with tears in her eyes “…also victorious. Stronger. Changed. You did that. You gave me a fight when I needed it. You taught me to take a punch and get back up. You showed me that what we see on the outside can be very deceiving. A scar doesn’t mean you were weak. A scar means you survived. A scar is a badge of strength.”

When she blinks, several tears slide down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to wipe them away. “You left scars, but now I’m stronger. So … thank you.”

“I love you, Avery.” The words tumble out. I hate how empty they probably sound to her, but it’s all that’s in my head and my heart.

She nods, slowly brushing away the tears and sniffling. “I know you do. But it won’t last because it was built on something weak—your expectations of me. And I can’t stand on those forever. I will stumble and fall. I will crash and crumble. And eventually, I won’t be recognizable to you because you’ll always remember me at my best, when loving me was easy.”