Page 56 of The Déjà Glitch
Gemma’s heart surged up into her throat and felt like it was about to burst out of her mouth. “What is that? What are you doing?”
Her father turned to look at her over his shoulder, a hopeful smile on his lips. “We used to sing this song together, remember?”
Of course she remembered. It was one of her favorite memories. She kept it safe in a chamber of her heart and mind that she only visited when she was feeling strongenough. Having it yanked out into the open of her father’s vacuous, terrarium house made her feel exposed. Like a vulnerable baby bird with no feathers.
He was obviously trying to extend whatever bonding moment they’d had in the bathroom with the Band-Aid, but it felt like too far of a leap for her.
“Can you turn it off, please?” She fought to keep the wobble out of her voice.
He smiled at her. “Come on. You love this song! I was listening to it earlier because I heard Nigel on your show. That was an excellent interview, by the way. How did you book him? I know he’s in town tonight. If you had called me, I—”
She knew he was about to launch into a story of privileged access riddled with celebrity names, but her mind snagged on one thing he’d said and the memory of the framed newspaper article in the bedroom.
“You listened to the show?”
He cut off his story and gave her a sincere look that she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. His eyes softened into something both warm and repentant. “Gemma, I always listen to your show. Even if it’s not your voice on the waves, I know you’re there in the background. It’s the only way I can be near you.”
A sensation bloomed in her chest that felt at once delicate and beautiful and like she was being stood upon by a very large foot. Learning that her father listened to her show fed some deep-seated desire for approval and a longing for connection and explained the proud little news clipping in a picture frame, but his ending comment felt more like a guilt trip than anything endearing.
“That’s not entirely my fault, you know. You’re a busyman.” The bitterness in her tone, along with the accusation, couldn’t have been missed.
He gave her a look that said he was well aware she was referring to his elective absence in her childhood. He squared himself with a breath and looked, perhaps, like he wanted to remind her she was the one who never returned his calls and messages and only visited when her brother who lived on the other side of the world dragged her along when she lived close enough to stop by for dinner whenever, but he resisted. His leverage in any argument was minimal, if it existed at all.
Nigel continued singing in the background. Her father attempted to change the subject and pointed to the record player with his drink in his hand. “His show at the Bowl tonight, I pulled some strings and got Azalea added to the opening lineup, but you probably already know that. How’s Nick?”
At first, Gemma wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. But by the way he smiled at her like he had performed some enormous favor, she knew that she had. The earth felt like it fell out from beneath her feet. Whatever fate had twisted to land her on his doorstep suddenly felt like a giant middle finger.
Of coursehe had played a hand in making Nick a part of Nigel’s show. Only her father had the clout to do something so blind and fantastically inconsiderate. And onlyher fatherwould casually ask about the relationship that had imploded and left her broken as if it had never ended.
In that moment, she realized the man she was staring at was a total stranger.
“Are you serious?” she said with a bite that dulled his smile. “Nick and I broke up over a year ago.”
He frowned at her, confused. “You what? He told me you were still together.”
The earth that had disappeared beneath her felt like it returned only to disappear again. She was falling standing straight up. “He what?”
Her father nodded as if convincing both of them he hadn’t been the one to make a mistake. “Yes, he said you were still dating.”
Gemma blinked at him several times, trying to process this. She was both shocked and not at all surprised that Nick would stoop low enough to lie to her father to get ahead—to use her.Again.She had trouble forming words around the half scream lodged in her throat, but she needed to set the record straight.
“Nick and I are not together, Dad. He used me to get to you and then broke up with me.”
He flinched in surprise, and his ignorance felt as thick and wide as the distance between them. “He what?”
She scoffed again, feeling her anger that always simmered begin to boil with more force. “You don’t remember that the night I introduced Nick to you, it changed everything, do you? How he suddenly became more interested inyouthan me? How you fell for him even harder than I did and didn’t even realize that he dumped me as soon as you got him a record deal?”
He took a step back, startled. “Gemma, I didn’t know any of that.”
She had to fight not to roll her eyes. “Of course youdidn’t. You are so deep into your career and the business and allthis”—she held out her arms and gestured at their surroundings—“that you can’t see anything else.”
His face folded into defensive lines. “Now, that’s not fair. You hardly talk to me, Gemma. How was I to know—”
“Fair?” She cut him off. “Do you really want to talk to me about fair, Dad?” She could feel something unlocking inside her. The vault where she kept all the things that she wanted to say to her father was dangerously close to spilling open. “Was it fair that you always put us second? Me and Mom and Patrick? Youneverchose us first. I don’t fit into your life now because you pushed me out of it back then. Patrick only comes around because he was too young to remember it. He doesn’t know what it felt like to always be second place, but I do, and god knows Mom does.”
He paled and looked as if she had slapped him. He gathered himself after a breath. “Gemma, I know I made mistakes, and believe me, I’ve suffered the consequences. But I can’t make amends if you won’t talk to me.”
“Why would I want to talk to you when you’re still doing it?”