“I noticed the cutest bakery café on our way in,” Danielle said, pointing across the lobby. “They have a whole menu of hot chocolate. You’re a big fan of hot chocolate, aren’t you, Emme? Remember that time we got those truffle cocoas in Vail? Argh, so good!” She shimmied at the thought and I realized this lady was breaking her back to carry the conversation. “I think they have frozen hot chocolates too since it’s a little toasty-roasty out there tonight. We could just pop on over and check it out.” She gave her husband a not-so-subtle jab in the side. “Wouldn’t that be spectacular, honey?”
Charles seemed to struggle with finding the words. For my part, I struggled with not hauling off and laying this fucking guy out for the shit he put his daughter through. But then he said, “It would be wonderful, if it’s not too much trouble.” He shota quick, plaintive glance in my direction. “But I don’t mean to intrude and I would understand if this isn’t the right time for you.”
Emme gave my hand a squeeze and I interpreted that as the signal to get us out of there—and do a much better job of it than Hersberler—but she said, “Yeah, okay.”
And that was how the four of us ended up crowded around a small table in a mostly empty café with mugs the size of soup tureens in front of us while Danielle chatted endlessly about the weather, the flight from Chicago, the new construction in Vegas.
I kept an arm around the back of Emme’s chair and my free hand laced with hers, my thumb stroking the inside of her wrist while her pulse hammered away. As far as I knew, this was the first time she’d seen her father since that horrible Christmas in the islands.
Danielle paused the monologue to reach for her mug and stabbed Charles with a meaningful glance in the process. “Oh, this is delicious,” she cooed. “Honey, you should try yours.”
Instead of touching his drink, Charles leaned forward, his hands clasped and his shoulders hunched. Not his usual look. The last I’d checked, the guy double-fisted arrogance and entitlement.
But then he said, “I checked myself into a treatment facility for alcohol abuse about five years ago. I didn’t go with the right mindset and it didn’t stick once I was out. I wasn’t ready to face myself and the person I’d become. It took another year for me to hit the bottom, and when I went back, I did better. I worked harder. There were relapses”—he exhaled heavily and his shoulders slumped even more—“but I didn’t let that pull me under. I got help. Therapy, medication. My diet is mostly plant-based now.”
His brows lifted like he wasn’t totally convinced about that one.
“I’ve been sober for two years, six months, and seven days. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it was long overdue.” He looked up, meeting Emme’s gaze. “What I did to you was inexcusable and I won’t ask for your forgiveness. But I want you to hear me say that I was wrong. I wasn’t the father you deserved. I’ve earned all the distance between us. My behaviors are the reason you are not in my life and I regret it everyday, but I understand it was the only choice you could make. I don’t blame you for a minute of it.” He knuckled a tear from the corner of his eye. “I do love you—very much—and I’m so proud of you.”
Emme stared at him, nearly motionless, before picking up her mug with shaky hands and downing half the drink. I watched her gazing into the overlarge cup for a moment like she wanted to climb inside and disappear.
When she set it on the saucer, she glanced between Charles and Danielle. “That’s a lot of information,” she said softly, a finger tracing the small plate.
“I don’t expect you to respond to all of this,” he said. “I just want you to know I’m deeply sorry and I hope that someday you’ll be willing to allow me into your life again.”
“I’ll think about that,” Emme said.
Charles nodded. “Thank you for giving me the chance to speak to you—and to extend my congratulations.”
“We’re so happy for you,” Danielle added. “Can you send me the originals of those photos? I need to get them framed.”
Emme made a vague noise of agreement, nodding. As far as I was concerned, we were done here. We’d heard everything Charles had to say and he’d indicated he wasn’t waiting on her forgiveness, and that was enough family time for us tonight. It was great that he’d put in the work, but my wife didn’t have to give him another second.
A beat passed while I considered the cleanest exit strategy, and Charles seized that moment to turn to me with a glimmerof the cocky smile he was known for. “I imagine you heard that I pulled my offer last month. Once I realized I was up against my future son-in-law for those teams, I knew it was time to back out.”
I felt the breath go out of me like I had three hundred pounds of linebacker on top of me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Emme slowly turn toward me. Her grip on my hand went slack as his words—those wrong fucking words—played on a loop in my head.
“I’ll come up with something else to keep my hands busy, but if you ever want to talk shop, you know how to find me,” Charles went on. “Though it did cross my mind to outbid you and offer them as a wedding gift.” He grinned at Danielle. “I was told I was doing too much.”
Emme pushed to her feet, shaking out of my hold in the process. She took a very intentional step away from me and then another when I tried to follow. Everything inside me turned upside down, revolting against the gulf of wrong forming between us.
“Thank you for telling me all of this,” Emme said. “I don’t know—I need some time. Okay? I’d like some time.” She clasped her hands and stared at her father for a long, heavy moment. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”
She strode out of the café, her arms crossed over her chest and I knew—I knew—this was how I’d fuck it all up.
How I’d ruin all the best things in my life.
chapter thirty-two
Emme
Today’s Learning Objective:
Students will go to confession.
I didn’t like elevators.It wasn’t something I fussed about, but I hated the way my belly flipped over when the car started moving and then again when jerking to a stop. I’d heard that some people liked those moments of near-weightlessness, but I’d never understood that.
And now, pressing myself deep into the corner of an elevator and doing everything in my power to avoid making eye contact with Ryan, I could addtoo damn smallandnot fucking fast enoughto the list of things I didn’t care for.
