Chapter 18: YARON

It’s not every day that your heart gets broken. We walked aimlessly. I could hear Vee talking about her plans in the background, like the trees moving in the wind or the sound of some birds, but for the first time, I wasn’t listening to her. I didn’t want to.

I looked at her, waiting for a signal to jump in and ask her to stay.

“Are you listening to me, Yaron?”

I blinked and looked at her. She looked gorgeous. So gorgeous that I hated her for coming into my life, only to leave years later.

“I’ll talk to my father.”

“What?”

I grabbed onto the only possibility I found, not realizing that with every passing second, Vee was opening her eyes to a dark version of Yaron, who had never wanted her to get what she wanted.

Not if it meant losing her.

“I can ask my father to give you a job.”

Her hand slipped from mine, and she looked at me as if I were a stranger. After all, that was what I was to her at that moment.

“What the hell are you saying?”

I ran my hands over my face and begged.

“Please, don’t go. You don’t have to. Especially not for a crappy job.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have a father who owns a building company and can pay for the best college. I’m sorry I’m not a straight-A student who was accepted into every university he sent an application to,” she spat at me, without hiding her anger. “I’m sorry all I have is a drunk father, instead of the perfect family who loves me and supports me.”

Her words felt like a slap in the face. She turned around and walked away from me.

I followed her. “Vee, you don’t have to leave everything to go to Los Angeles to clean tables. That’s not success. That’s clinging to a stupid dream.”

She stopped, turned around, and looked at me with eyes full of pain.

I covered my mouth with my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Vee swallowed and it happened. She looked at me like she had never looked at me before. She put on the armor she used to face the rest of the world.

“Yes, you did.”

“Vee...”

She ran off, and I dropped to the ground. I let myself be carried away by the fear of losing her.

I headed to her house and entered without thinking about what I wanted to say or do.

Her father was dozing on the couch. He was wearing an old hat. I looked at him for a few seconds before slamming the door shut so the slam would wake him. He jumped and sat up.

“Mr. Beilinson...” Vee’s father blinked a few times and focused his eyes on me.

“She is leaving,” my voice cracked.

He sighed and nodded. His gaze was lost in the distance. He didn’t seem sad, nor happy. He looked ... calm. Resigned.

“She’ll be fine.”

“How can you be so calm? How can you let her just leave? You can’t let her go! You’re her father; it’s your duty to prevent her from doing stupid things like this.”

He picked up the bottle that was resting on the floor and took a long drink. Then, he handed it to me. The burn of the whiskey turned my stomach, but I didn’t stop; maybe the alcohol would dissolve what the giant black hole that was swallowing my whole world.

Love hurt. I didn’t get what it meant until that moment.

I sat on the floor. A bird chirped somewhere.

Then, he spoke, and showed me that, in spite of everything, he was still a father.

“Love is about respecting the dreams and freedom of others. I may not have been the best father in the world, but I love my daughter. Never doubt that, Yaron Beilinson.”

I knew I had completely screwed up. I turned, and there was Vee.

She had heard it all. My pleas. My reproaches. My pain.

She said nothing. She didn’t need to.

I followed her into her bedroom. It was messier than ever. I quickly realized it was because Vee had started getting rid of everything she didn’t care about and sorting out what she wanted to take with her.

What was my place in all this? I guess I was about to find out.

She sat down on her bed, and I felt her more distant than ever.

“I thought you believed in me.”

I closed my eyes and accepted her complaint. I deserved no less. However, there was no time for half-truths anymore.

“I believe in you. But I also believe in us. I don’t want to lose you.”

I probably sounded pathetic, but I didn’t dare. The silence became thick. The room smelled of disappointment, of my anger, of the fear we both felt that our relationship would end like this.

She raised her hand, and her scar shone.

“I’ve never told you how I got it.”

“Vee, you don’t...”

“It was December. I remember because through the window at home I could see the neighbors’ Christmas lights. Our house was the only one that wasn’t decorated. I waited for Dad all afternoon, but he didn’t come back. He’d been doing that a lot. He’d go out very early and show up when I thought he wouldn’t and I’d have to call the police. I decided to make dinner. It wasn’t the first time. I was six years old, but I already knew how to cook a roast much better than most adults. However, there was not much, so I decided on some eggs. I put the oil to heat and, the moment I cracked the first shell with the edge of the pan, I heard the door. His footsteps. He was drunk.”