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So my dad has a gambling problem. He’s had one for a while. It got worse after my mom left him eight years ago. Maybe if she’d stayed, it wouldn’t be so bad today, but it was the reason she left him in the first place. She gave him an ultimatum: her or the casinos, but he chose the casinos.
Ever since then, things have never been quite the same at home. Dad’s problem has only gotten worse, but while Brit may not have faith in him, I do. I think he has the power inside him to get better, and I believe that one day, he’ll overcome this issue of his. I refuse to give up on him.
When Brit and I pull up to my house, there’s an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway: an all-black Mercedes in a neighborhood that consists of mostly used cars with hundreds of thousands of miles on them. It
