Page 115 of Crimson Desires
Melinda turned to Dad, a worried look crossing her eyes. Dad cleared his throat. “Go let them in, Aster.”
“Okay,” I drawled, slowly rising to my feet. I peered out the kitchen window—but I didn’t see another car in our driveway. Whoever was knocking at our door had either walked to our house or had been dropped off.
I unlocked the door and opened it.
I was immediately met with a pair of familiar dark blue eyes.
“Violet?” My voice caught in my throat. I swallowed thickly. “What are you doing here?”
Violet answered my question with one of her own. “Why didn’t you tell me that Dad was undergoing surgery?”
“I didn’t think-,”
“Aster, stop.” Violet set down her purple suitcase, stepped forward, and pulled me into a hug. I didn’t return the embrace at first, too shocked to do anything but stand rigid with my hands at my sides. “You’re an ass sometimes. Did you know that?”
I snorted, incredulous. “Why am I an ass?”
“You act like you know what’s best for everyone. You act like you don’t need help. You pretend like you can handle everything on your own—even when it’s clear that you’re drowning in your own self-inflicted responsibilities. You make all these sacrifices for other people, but you never ask those people if they want you to sacrifice for them.” Violet’s voice wasn’t angry or accusatory. Just sad.
“Violet, what are you talking about?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry. I tried to pull away from her hug, but she just held me tighter.
“It’s self-centered, in a way,” Violet continued. “You act like the only way to help people is to hurt yourself in the process. Well, news flash, Aster. Your suffering is not positively correlated to other peoples’ problems.”
Finally, Violet let go of me. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were struggling to pay for Dad’s surgery when we met for lunch?”
“Because it wasn’t your problem,” I said. My shoulders tensed.
“He’s my dad too, you know.”
“You haven’t been around for the past decade!” I snapped. Immediately, I felt bad for losing my temper. I dialed it back. “I mean, I get that you were hurting from Mom. I’m not blaming you for that. But don’t act like I shut you out of Dad’s life on purpose.”
Violet sighed. “I texted Dad after you and I had lunch. He was worried about you. He told me about the tough financial situation that you two were in.”
“Look, Violet, this is nice of you—but it’s all been taken care of. Jack paid for Dad’s medical bills. So, there’s no need to worry. Everything’s fine.”
Violet didn’t react as I expected. She furrowed her brow and let out a single, confused laugh. “What are you talking about, Aster? I paid for Dad’s bill.”
“What? No. That’s not right. I saw-,”
“Do you want me to show you the invoice the hospital sent to my email?” Violet asked. “Aster, I don’t know what you think happened—but I’m the one who paid. Not Jack.”
Violet’s words hit me like a train.
I found it hard to breathe and harder to think. Before I knew it, my legs were carrying me from the entryway to the kitchen. I locked eyes with Dad at the dining table.
“Dad, did Violet pay for your surgery?” It wasn’t a question so much as it was a demand for the truth.
Dad winced. “Honey, I didn’t know how to tell you-,”
“Did she, or didn’t she?”
“I didn’t want you spending the money you earned from your art on my surgery!” Dad said, his voice rising. “I didn’t do it with the intention of shaming you, honey. You know that don’t you?”
I tried to take a step toward him. Instead, my legs buckled from under me. Violet grabbed me before I could hit the hard linoleum floor. She supported me as I staggered to my feet, and walked me over to the dining table, where I slumped down on one of the chairs.
I could feel the color draining from my face as the implications of Violet’s truth began to sink in.
Violet paid for Dad’s surgery. Not Jack.