CHAPTER 10

  Asshole.

  “Whatever.” I snort sulkily and push my fork into my mouth, chewing what should be a favorite meal for both of us, yet it tastes like ash. I have no appetite today. There’s nothing wrong with my skill in cooking but just my mood, and he has helped it get worse. I don’t know why I care.

  I have left my dad a dozen messages in the last couple of days, and he’s not responding. He does this whenever holidays come up; even though I know it, it still hurts. I can’t help myself.

  There’s a part of me that cannot give up on reaching out to him and trying to keep our relationship alive. When I was little, my father made me feel like I was the center of his universe, but the second they divorced, I became baggage. No matter how often I tell myself to let it go and stop chasing him, I just can’t.