Biting my tongue when it comes to Judah is the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm at the point where I could just say fuck it and quit my job so Elliot and I can be together with nothing to worry about. I would do that for her. Honestly, I can't think of anything I wouldn't do for her.

In the spirit of moving on and trying to get my life together, I've decided to go and visit my father. I've lived here for almost seven years and have only been to see him once. It didn't go well.

As I pull up to the Huttonsville Correctional Institute, I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles blanch. He's serving a ten-year sentence for second degree felony assault. One of the main reasons he called is because he's up for parole next year. Rehabilitation couldn't possibly happen that quick, and for him, I'm not sure it can happen at all.

His sentence would have been life if they charged him with attempted murder. Unfortunately, my testimony prevented that from happening. Even after all the shit he put us through, I still couldn't be the one who put him away forever. It's not something I can explain. Saying it out loud would have made it too real.

A familiar sick feeling returns to my stomach as I pass through the metal detectors. It's been nearly six years since I've been here, but the memory is still burned in my mind. After placing my things in the bin, a stoic guard checks the guest sheet.

"Hunter Graham," he says my name slowly as he runs his finger along the computer screen. "Yep, you're listed."

I swallow back another wave of nausea threatening to spill all over the floor. The visiting hours are only an hour, but I don't think I'll need that long. It only took three minutes to say what I needed to last time.

He hands me my license with a stiff nod. "Have a seat. We'll call you when he's ready."

I force a half smile, and I shove my ID in my pocket and take a seat on the metal chair. For as many times as I've run through the conversation in my head, I still feel nervous. What could he possibly want from me? Forgiveness? If that is a learned trait, I haven't mastered it yet.

About twenty painfully long minutes later, I'm waved back to the visitation room. I spot him immediately at a table back in the corner. His sandy blond hair is longer than I remember, but the piercing blue eyes we share remain the same. The corners of his mouth turn up slightly as I approach. The chatter of the other visitors and their loved ones starts to blur together, drowning out the incessant thoughts in my head.

My father stands as the guard and I come to a stop at his table. I'm half surprised he isn't shackled or cuffed at all. He's in his light blue uniform, with the addition of a few tattoos I haven't seen before.

"I'm so glad you came," he says. I can tell he wants to hug me, but I make it clear that isn't going to happen by taking a seat in front of him.

He runs his hand through his hair and follows suit. "Your mother said you're teaching now. That's good, son."

I grit my teeth together and narrow my eyes slightly. "That's what you want? To make small talk with me? To pretend like you give a shit how my life turned out so far?"

His eyebrows pull in and he shakes his head. He reaches for me, but I cross my arms and lean back in my seat. "Hunter, of course I care what you're doing. I'm your father."

The scoff that explodes from me is louder than I expected. "My father, huh? You wouldn't know the first thing about being a father. You were a sperm donor at best."

"That's fair. I know how terrible I was. I can't even deny that." He pats his chest, and I notice the cross around his neck. "But I've changed. I saw the error of my ways."

I roll my eyes. "Please don't fucking tell me that you found God now. Is that what you want me to believe? That you've been saved?"

"I'm serious. I have repented..."

I clench my fist on the table, speaking in a harsh whisper. "You haven't done shit! Your sorry things didn't work out the way you planned and now you want out early."

"It may take a while to regain your trust, but I think our relationship can be salvaged." The way he's sitting there so calmly while he spouts this bullshit almost makes me laugh.

I close my eyes for a moment as the unexpected tears begin to burn. "I still wake up at night drenched in sweat thinking that I'm going to die. When my eyes finally open my chest still feels so tight I struggle to breathe. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

His eyes drift down to the table for a moment, and if I believed he was capable of it, I would say it looked like remorse. I watch his throat bob as he swallows, looking up at me again. "I wish I could take it back. I wish I could do it all over again differently, but I can't."

"You're damn right you can't." I press my finger into the metal table. "But I'll tell you what you didn't do. You didn't completely ruin me. Despite everything, I'm still capable of loving someone. Of showing an emotion that was never expressed to me."

He smiles. "That's good, son. I'm happy for you."

I let out a bitter laugh. "I don't want you to be happy for me. I don't want anything from you. I only came here for one reason."

"Which is?"

I crack my neck. "To tell you I'll be at your hearing. I won't be too afraid to speak this time." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and I continue. "You won't get out early, not if I have anything to do with it."

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

Pushing my chair back from the table, I stand. "I'm sorry I spent so much of my life thinking I would end up like you. I finally have someone who believes in me, who loves me. She sees the good I'm capable of and that's all that matters to me."

I don't wait for a response. I've said what I needed to say. Making peace with my father is something I'll probably never have, but as I leave the prison today, I finally feel like I can breathe again.

***

I've tried to avoid telling Elliot about most of my past. A part of me is ashamed of the life I've led up until this point. A stronger man would be able to move past the upbringing he was cursed with, but mine continues to haunt me. What type of life could I really give her if all I'm ever going to be is a violent, jealous psychopath? I was never lying when I said she deserves better. The man I just saw behind bars proves what a future could look like if she chooses to stay with me.

My thoughts are interrupted when I see Oliver and Elliot in a heated discussion outside the garage doors. I exit my truck and take tentative steps over to him. Oliver runs a hand through his messy hair when he sees me. He whispers something to Elle that I can't hear.

"What's going on?" I ask, slipping my arm around her waist.

Oliver gives me his serious look. It doesn't always mean something is actually serious, but it is to him, so it could go either way.

He sighs. "Principal Bellamy and my dad want to go skiing this weekend."

"And?"

Oliver looks at me like I'm an idiot who should be able to read his mind. "And, they want you and I to go with them."

He points between us like something should be clicking together. The only thing running through my mind is how much I hate heights.

"What's the big deal?"

Oliver's eyes widen. "The big deal? I know you're smarter than me, I've never denied that, but right now—you're very dumb." He steps forward and slaps the side of my head, and I scowl at him. "They're digging for dirt my dude."

Elliot huddles closer to my side, and I wrap my arm around her. "They don't have shit."

"You sure about that?" Oliver asks, cocking his head. "You two aren't exactly discreet all the time. And you've been racking up the enemies, Cameron, Dylan, pretty soon Judah—I can list people all night who would love to see Miss Perfect fall from grace."

"Everyone thinks Judah and I are together," Elliot chimes in.

Oliver mock claps for us. "Excellent plan, Elle. Have the one guy in this entire world who couldn't be more in love with you as your only ally."

Elliot narrows her eyes. "You're our ally too, asshole."

"Yeah, but that only gets you so far. I'm your brother. I'm supposed to lie and shit."

I tilt my head to him. "So, what are you suggesting?"

Oliver grins and I cringe. "Well, Mrs. Barns popped that baby out six weeks early, so there is an opening for the director of the play."

"So?"

"So, that could be you." He motions to Elliot. "And you and Dylan are already in the play so you can do that thing you do and get everyone off your trail."

Elliot scoffs. "That thing I do?" She deepens her glare. "What? You want me to flirt with Dylan?"

Oliver shrugs. "It worked before."

I shake my head. "Fuck that. New plan."

"Aw, come on. Be a team player—"

I release my grip from Elliot and move closer to Oliver. "I am being a fucking team player. My girl is dating her ex. What more do you want from me?"

Remorse comes over Oliver's features finally and he nods. "Okay, you're right. But use this opportunity to put distance between you two. Talk about Judah, gush about prom and all that girly shit to Cameron. Don't stand there and make doe eyes at Hunter."

"I do not," Elliot protests.

"Whatever," Oliver says, holding his arms out to his sides. "You wanted to play games, now let's put on a show."

Elliot looks up at me, and I give her a smile. She looks uncertain, and the only way for us both to make it out of this intact is to put forth a united front. I turn her in my arms so she's facing me.

"When this is all over, we'll look back on this and laugh at all the ridiculous things we had to do just so we could be together."

She smiles a little, but it's still tinged in sadness. "And when that time comes, I hope it will be worth it to you."

I don't answer her question. I press my lips to hers and lift her almost off her feet. I catch a noise of revulsion from Oliver, who is still standing a few feet away. I keep it brief and set her back on the pavement. With one last peck I whisper, "It already is."