I Still Hate You by Marie Skye (most popular ebook readers .TXT) 📗

tablecloth. I stared at the brown drops as they soaked into the linen. It wasn’t perfect anymore. No matter how much they cleaned the stain out, it would always be deemed perfectly imperfect.

Like me.

“You kicked me out the moment I turned eighteen. As in the very day, I turned eighteen. I came home from school to all my shit packed by the front door when I still had two weeks of school left. Most people get a cake for their birthday, I had the lovely task of trying to find a place to sleep. I needed a family. I needed someone to talk to if I was having a bad day at school. I had a sister that didn’t even know I existed when her room was across from mine! She never even knew we were sisters. She died not knowing that.” I felt the tears welling but it didn’t matter, it never did. The years of bitterness and rage that was in me was starting to come to surface. “Why did you call me here?”

Gerald sighed and stared at his hands a moment before lacing his with Jacqueline’s. “I know that apologizing won’t make up for it. And you’re right, there are things you don’t know—”

I cut him off. “I asked why did you call me here?”

He ran a hand through his hair and tensed as if whatever he had to say was truly detrimental. “Your mother…” he paused looking at her. He loved her, that much was true, and maybe Gerald even loved me, but I would never know. They had years to show me any kind of love but they didn’t, so why would I want their love now? Jacqueline placed her hands on top of his before finally looking at me for probably the first time in ten years, and if not that, then the first time since I walked into this snooty place.

“I’m sick,” she said quietly as she dabbed her eyes with the cloth napkin. I felt myself disconnecting after that. Memories of my own father being sick flooded my mind. We went to so many doctors and it felt like each one gave the same prognosis. Because they did.

Death.

“Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

I finally looked up at the two police officers standing in front of me. A third joined them. I’m not even sure when the third guy got here. Or was he here the whole time? Maybe he was here the whole time. He was much younger than both of the others. I looked around the small kitchen. Did I offer them anything to drink? Maybe I should offer them a drink. I didn’t even know what we had. Hell, we barely had anything. We barely spent any time home, and were practically at the hospital twenty-four seven. I moved us into the cheapest place I could find since neither of us would really even be here.

Tap water would have to do. Ugh, the tap was disgusting. They seemed nice enough to not even care that it was just tap water. Did I have clean cups? All of our glasses were still in boxes. How embarrassing. So, so embarrassing.

“Ma’am?” The first officer crouched down in front of me. “I think that you’re in shock.”

“I should make dinner, he has to have food with his medication,” I whispered. At least I think I whispered it. Something was dripping from my face, and I reached up and touched it. They were tears. Was I crying? Why was I crying?

“Ma’am, is there someone we can call for you? A family member, or your mother perhaps?”

My head snapped to his. Mother. If only I knew what that even was. I shook my head as I looked back at him. “It’s just me and my dad. He came home yesterday.” My eyes went to my dad, who was faced down on the kitchen table. His Daurismo and cytarabine pill bottles were both spilled. I quickly counted the tablets. Thirteen. There were only thirteen of the Daurismo and only three of the cytarabine. Where were the rest? These were both brand-new refills.

The second officer knelt beside the other one. “How old are you, sweetie?” I blinked at him as if the question was not only ridiculous, but I debated telling him my real age since I had to lie that I was of age just to get this apartment and the several before that.

“Ma’am, we need you to step away from the body,” one of the officers said gently. The body? What the hell did he mean by ‘the body’. It’s my dad. When he stepped toward me, I flinched, and he held up his hands to show he meant no harm.

“Ma’am, I’m so, so sorry. I really am. I know this is a horrible situation for you right now, but…” he briefly hesitated as he turned back to the other officers before looking back at me. “He’s no longer with us. I truly am sorry for your loss.”

“I was only gone for a few hours. He was fine. He was getting better!” The officer looked to the other officer in the far back. I heard myself getting louder. My hand gripped tighter to the hand that was cold to the touch on the table. I willed it to wake up. I willed it to warm up as I moved it.

Him.

“He’s so cold,” I whispered, rubbing my hand up and down his arm trying to warm him up.

“The body is cold?” the officer in front of me asked.

I frowned. “No, my dad is cold! You’re supposed to help him! Why are you just standing there?”

I stared at all the other empty pill bottles that surrounded him, and the empty bottle of whiskey. I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it. None of this made any sense. “He wouldn’t do this,” I whispered one last time.

Yeah. He wouldn’t do this. But he did. He fucking did.

“Perrie, I know this must be completely overwhelming for you.” I slowly looked