A few days after my breakup with Easton, my father returned to Seattle right when I was at my lowest.
I mean, it was normal for a girl to cry her eyes out after ending a relationship. We needed to let it all out, and the only thing we truly needed in moments like those was the love and affection of our parents.
The problem was that my father wasn’t like the fathers of most girls my age.
To him, the best way to give me his love and show me he cared was to buy me a luxurious BMW convertible.
Of course, it didn’t have the effect he had hoped for. Not even holding the keys to what would be my first car made me feel any better.
Quite the opposite.
I started feeling like a bag of garbage after my father received a work call and ended up flying to Argentina that very same day.
Fortunately,
