There was silence on the other end, but I knew he could hear the pain in my voice. He’d been waiting for this, hoping I’d see the truth before it was too late.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Come home. I’ll be waiting.”
I hung up the phone with my father, my chest still tight from our conversation. Telling him I was coming home had been the hardest thing I’ve said in a while, but I knew it was the right choice. I was done with this life, done with Darius. The pain, the rejection, the betrayal—it was time to leave it all behind.
The door to my room creaked open, and Darius stepped in. My heart skipped a beat, not from excitement but from pure unease. He glanced at the phone in my hand, suspicion etched across his face.
"Who were you talking to?" His voice was low, almost accusing.
I forced a smile, slipping into the familiar act I’d perfected over the years. “My dad,” I said, casually. “He just called to check on me. Nothing important.” I paused, looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?”