“How was your day?” I attempt.

“Fine,” he murmurs, texting furiously.

I sigh.

We arrive at my father’s massive home and I press the intercom that’s outside the large, cast-iron fence.

“Yes?”

“Wilson,” I say into the speaker. “It’s Avery.”

“Avery,” he sings. “How lovely. I’ll open the gate.”

I love Wilson, my father’s assistant. He’s a warm, gentle old man that, for some crazy reason, stays loyal to my father.

The gates make a loud, shrill sound and begin to slide open. Jacob and I step in and walk up the long driveway to my father’s three-story white mansion. I didn’t grow up here; he got it after my mother went missing. I guess the old house was too much for him.

I don’t knock when I reach the front door; I never have to. I open it to face Wilson. He’s smiling big at me, and he instantly reaches out and pulls me into his arms. He’s a strong man for his age. He’s fully gray, with pale-brown eyes. He’s built, tall and quite powerful. I hug him with a smile and look up at him. He always smiles at me the way I wish Papa would smile at me. Those days, however, are long gone.

“How are you, Wilson?”

He pinches my cheek. “Not as good as you, it seems. You look wonderful, Avery.”

I beam. “Thank you.”

He lets me go and reaches out, shaking Jacob’s hand.

“Wilson, good to see you,” Jacob says, stepping past us and heading down the hall. “Is he in the office?”

“Yes sir,” Wilson says, rolling his eyes at me and causing me to giggle.

Jacob turns and glares at us, but we both stare innocently at him. He turns and keeps walking.

“I better go,” I whisper, kissing Wilson’s cheek quickly before rushing off towards Jacob.

We reach my father’s office and Jacob opens the door, stepping in. I see my dad right away, standing by the window with a cigar in his hand. His once dark-brown hair is now greying, and he’s gotten leaner as age has gone on. He turns to stare at us, and his eyes—the same eyes as mine—are empty. They’ve never been full again. He forces a smile but it’s the fakest, emptiest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Avery,” he mutters. “I didn’t think I’d see you anytime soon.”

It’s almost as if he’s picking on me, even though he’s acting as through it’s normal conversation.

“I’ve been busy dancing,” I say, walking over and giving him the most awkward hug in the history of hugs.

“Mmmm,” he grumbles.

“We’ll do what we have to here, and then we’ll go,” Jacob says, walking to his desk and sitting down.

I’m still giving my father a look.

“Have you spoken to Liam?” I ask.

He stiffens and straightens. “Liam refuses to be a part of my life. I’m not going to chase him.”

Chase him. Chase him.

He’s never, not once, made an effort with Liam. He doesn’t visit; he doesn’t take an interest in his life. He just sits back and blames his attitude on him.

“He’s into the drugs quite heavily,” I say.

He looks to me with a stiff expression. “Liam is a grown man. He’ll do as he pleases. I don’t know what it is you think I can do.”

I can’t deal with this. He’s always putting it back on Liam, always claiming that he’s a grown man and can make his own choices. Liam is hurt, he lost his mother but he also lost his father. He had no one to look up to, no one to be proud of him. My father doesn’t deserve him, and I’m tired of trying.

“You know what,” I say, turning to Jacob. “I’m not feeling all that well. Can we give dinner a miss?”

Jacob looks to me, shrugs, and turns back to the desk. “No problem.”

“I’ll call you later.”

I look to my father and he stares at me, a blank expression on his face. “You’re going already?”

“It seems you two have enough to do here,” I say, turning towards the door. “I’ll see myself out.”

Not another word is shared as I leave the room. He doesn’t try to stop me, doesn’t offer me a hug or a goodbye. He just lets me go, like he always does. Like he always will. I walk down the hall and catch Wilson at the door.

“Leaving already?”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” I lie.

He looks at me, his eyes soft. He knows, but he doesn’t say anything. “Would you like a lift?”

I shake my head and smile. “It’s a lovely night. I could do with the walk.”

“I’ll open the gate.”

I hug him and make my way back down the long drive. When I reach the street, I head into the main part of town instead of going back to my apartment. I’m hungry, and I don’t feel like going home and dwelling on the fact that my father and I can’t have a conversation for longer than five minutes without it going sour.

I’m off in my own little world, passing people who are busily rushing about. I start to pass a large McDonald’s store but come to a stop when I see Nate and Macy sitting by the window in a booth. I contemplate whether or not to let them see me. They’re probably having a family dinner and that would be rude. But I notice Nate’s face. Macy is chatting his ear off but he’s staring into nothing, his eyes hard, his jaw tight. He’s upset.