Loving Her (Mitchell Family #9)(51)
Author: Jennifer Foor

“Mom, it’s not hard.”

In other words, Bella knew she was being disrespectful on purpose. She knew that it had all been a show, and deep down she didn’t hate Ty. It was the opposite. “The decision has already been made. We can’t have you runnin’ away or sabotagin’ your life and studies because you’re mad at us.”

“I won’t.”

“Bella, please don’t make this any harder than it is. Uncle Colt and Aunt Van will keep you safe. You’ll have Noah to talk to if you get sad. You can call me or your dad whenever you want.”

She put her head down and sobbed. The longer I sat there, the more I knew I needed to get out of the room. I got up and left her there, fragile and alone, and I hated myself.

I hated this plan, even if it was working. I hated Ty for suggesting it, and myself for going through with it.

My baby was in her room hysterical, and I was a big fat liar, again.

Chapter 33

Tyler

Miranda came into the room having an emotional breakdown. She was sobbing and fell onto the bed next to me. I’d been awake for a few minutes and realized what time it was. As I started to get up, she came rushing in, and I had no idea what had happened.

I reached over and put my arms around her, but she shoved me off. “I hate this plan.”

She wouldn’t look up at me, albeit I already knew what she was talking about. “What happened?”

“I told her she’s got to move out. Ty, it was so horrible. She’s so upset.”

I knew it was selfish, but for some reason, all I could think about was the fact that the plan was working. “So she doesn’t want to leave?”

Miranda shook her head and sniffled. “No. She said she’ll do the exercises. She was practically pleadin’ to stay.”

“What did you tell her?” I hated that Miranda was hurting, and especially that we were being so cold to Izzy. Neither of my girls deserved to be in emotional distress, but I was determined to break that wall down that she’d built. If telling her she had to leave was working, I wanted to keep going through with it, because it was the only way to get our daughter back to the little girl she used to be.

For some people it probably made no sense, and the psychiatrist was going to have a field day. Hell, she’d probably say I was a horrible parent and didn’t deserve a daughter. Every parent has their own way of raising their kids, and mine may have been unique, but it worked.

“I told her that we couldn’t live in this house with so much pent up anger. I told her it wasn’t fair to the boys or anyone, includin’ you. Ty, you were right. It only took a few seconds for me to see it. She may have said she hated you and that you’re not her father, but I saw the real truth in her eyes. That girl loves you, and she’s never stopped. As much as this f**kin’ hurts, I’m willin’ to go through with it, for you and for our family.”

I pulled my wife’s face up so I could look into her eyes. I used my thumbs to wipe away her tears and kissed her softly on the nose. “Baby, none of this was meant to hurt you. You’ve got to remember that this is part of the plan. We’re doing this for our family. I know it hurts to even pretend that we’re giving up on her, but think about the rewards of making her appreciate our life. Look, I can promise you that the moment I drop her off at Colt’s is going to be one of the hardest of my life. I don’t want to spend a day without her in this house. It’s different when she’s visiting or away. I know it feels more permanent, even if it’s not. It isn’t like there’s some parenting manual laying around that can walk us through something like this. We’re grasping at straws here and I’m desperate as hell to get back what’s missing. Hell, I can’t even imagine what it’s like for other families that suffer through this for years. Maybe they’re stronger, or perhaps they’re just in denial. I don’t even care what other people think or do. This is about our family. It’s about our boys and about Isabella being the best daughter that she can be, because she’s happy and loved.”

When I said her full name Miranda closed her eyes. She knew I was done waiting. “We want the same thing, babe.”

I kissed her softly again and let my lips linger against hers. “I love you all so much. I can’t let her slip away without a fight.”

“I know. I just feel so bad. I hate seein’ her like this. It was our lie that did this to her, and now we’re puttin’ even more stress on her. What happens if this makes her hate us more?”

“First of all, she doesn’t hate you. She hates me, remember? Secondly, I seriously doubt that will happen. You said she’s already begging to stay. This is what we want, Miranda. She needs to realize what she’s giving up. The only way for her to appreciate us is if we show her exactly what she’s willing to lose.”

“I just wish there was an easier way.”

“So do I,” I agreed. It wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it. I’d stayed up half the night reconsidering the idea.

I held my wife as she cried and thought about our daughter, who was probably in her room doing the same thing. It would have been cool to be able to tell her that we changed our mind and that she could stay, but I needed to be sure that her reaction wasn’t just out of desperation. I needed to be certain that her feelings were genuine. I may have been pushing it, but this was a serious matter that needed to be handled. I refused to raise a defiant girl, who would only end up getting herself into trouble as she got older and looked down on authority.

Izzy went to school that Monday morning. I stayed at the house with Miranda while she made some calls to her school. The good news was that they were willing to allow her to be homeschooled until her “medical procedure” was dealt with and she’d recovered.

So it was a lie. It still reassured us that her education wouldn’t be affected. She’d already been privately tutored when she was in the hospital before.

I decided that I was going to pick her up from school and try to test the waters of how our long drive to Kentucky was going to be. I could see her disappointment when she walked over to the truck and saw that it was me sitting there waiting. She usually got excited when she didn’t have to ride the bus, but I could tell she wasn’t that happy this time.

She climbed in and tossed her bag in the backseat. I turned on her favorite station, but kept the volume low. “Hey. How was your day?”