“At this point you don’t even care, do you, Martin? You have your bags all packed to move up to Atlanta and, what, are you going to take my daughter with you?” He laughed, then continued, “I know you bought a house there. Word travels fast around here. You know that better than most.”

Words burned in my throat, failing to escape. There was no way that what my dad was saying was true.

“You bought a place in Atlanta?” I turned to Kael, but he was speechless, and my confusion turned into devastation. “Did you?”

I couldn’t hide my shock as he nodded.

“When were you going to tell me?”

I wanted to touch his face and turn his cheek toward me so he would have to face me, but I was too stunned to move.

“You knew I was leaving,” he said simply, as if we were discussing what to eat for dinner. His jaw was clenched, but his mouth was flat, nothing to read. I couldn’t tell if he was putting on a show for my father, acting like he didn’t give a shit about me, or if he just really didn’t. He was just the other day offering to take me to his place, here in town. Not in fucking Atlanta. I hated being gaslit. But I wasn’t even sure that’s what Kael was doing, since there was zero emotion is his eyes; he didn’t even care enough to manipulate me.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Kael. When are you going?”

“Soon.” He barely spoke.

I couldn’t breathe, but managed to ask, “When?”

“Not soon enough,” my dad replied for him.

I couldn’t look away from Kael, not even to tell my dad to shut the fuck up. When I searched Kael’s eyes, I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I couldn’t find anything.

I felt my anger too intensely to control it. I needed a reaction from him, so I pushed against his chest, but his body didn’t move at all. Even the way the fabric of his uniform felt against my palms triggered me. The green and tan had always been an omen to the bad shit in my life.

I pushed Kael’s chest again. I needed reassurance that the person I’d come to know was in there somewhere, that I hadn’t invented this. As my hands touched his chest, his grasped for mine, latching on to my wrists.

“Do not touch me like that,” he said calmly, looking into my eyes as he lowered our hands, then let go of mine. The words went straight to the deepest part of me and filled me with shame. He took a step away and stopped near the entryway of the kitchen.