I nod. I feel like I’m being the world’s biggest i***t by trusting him yet again, but here we are and here I am. Nodding and listening to the part of me that “knows” he’s gonna do right by us. He’s gonna protect me.
Hopefully.
Maybe.
“I’ll be right here,” I promise him. There’s a lounge chair for me to sit on, so I do. It does seem to ease a small bit of his tension, because he lets out a sigh and nods to the men.
Once they leave, I start praying that no one approaches me. Leave me alone, world. I’m no one, I’m not here. I’m not worth anyone’s curiosity.
God or Lady Luck or whoever seems to be hearing me, because for the most part, I am left entirely unbothered. One or two waiters swing by to offer me champagne, but I graciously thank them and shake my head.
I don’t know where Dad’s
