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I walked past Caleb.
He finally looked up, and there was nothing there. No apology. No shame.
My dad didn’t say anything on the drive home.
Neither did my mom. We just sat in the silence.
When we got to their house, my dad turned off the car and sat there for a minute.
“I should’ve said something sooner,” he said.
“No,” I told him.
“You said it when it mattered.”
Someone had finally said out loud what I’d been screaming inside my head for months.
Caleb had used me. Used my father. Used the trust we gave him.
I don’t know what happened at the reception after we left.
I don’t care.
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