“But you hardly ever fight, and this seems bad.”
“You don’t have to worry about divorce, Elisa.” She walks forward and wraps her arms around me. “I promise it’s not that. I still love your father, and he loves me. I’m just angry with him over something he meddled in.”
“What did he do?” I ask, easing back to examine her face.
“He needs to be the one to tell you.” She shucks out of our embrace. “He’s in his study. Go talk to him.”
“Okay.” This is so weird. “I’m getting coffee first. I have a feeling I might need it.”
“Let me get it.” Mom hurries to the coffee machine. “Thanks for looking after Aria last night.”
“We had fun, but you might want to talk to her. Your arguing has scared her.”
Mom’s face drops. “That is the last thing I ever want to do.” Guilt splays across her features, and I can guess where her head is gone.
“It’s not the same,” I rush to reassure her. “It’s only concerning because you two are usually all lovey-dovey and grabby hands and smushy kisses.”
She thrusts the mug in my hands. “Talk to your father, and I’ll talk to Aria and Will. I don’t want to worry them.”
My hands are warming against my mug of coffee as I walk toward Dad’s home office. Mom didn’t drop any clues, so I really don’t know what this is about. I knock on his door, waiting for him to call me in before opening it.
“Hey, honey.” He greets me with a slightly off smile as I step into his study and close the thick door behind me.
My lips curl up, like always when I step foot in here. The wall behind his desk and half the wall on the right are covered in framed drawings. Most are mine with a few of Aria’s. He started a separate section to proudly display my sister’s birthday drawings. It never fails to raise a smile. If I ever doubted my stepfather’s love for me, I only need to enter this room to be reminded of it.
“I’m guessing your mom sent you,” he says, getting up and walking around the desk to me.
I nod. “I don’t know what it’s about though.”
He rubs the back of his neck, the strain evident on his face. “I fucked up, honey.”
My brows knit together at his words. He circles his arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the long, cushioned window seat. I sit at one end, pulling my knees up to my chest. Dad sits at the other end with his legs firmly planted on the ground.
“With Mom?” I inquire before sipping my coffee.
He claws a hand through his thick dark hair. “With your mom and with you.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing. I just wanted to protect you.”
“What did you do?” Prickles of anxiety lift the fine hairs on the back of my neck as I suddenly have an inkling of what this might be about.
“I told Caleb if he cared for you to set you free.”
I blink repeatedly as my mouth hangs open. I open and close it several times before I can form a sentence. “You told him to lie to me?”
Pain flashes across his face as he winces. “Not directly, but I implied he should do whatever was necessary to let you go.”
“Why would you do that, Dad?” I can barely get the words out over the lump in my throat.
“I overstepped, and it was a bad call, but I had your best interests at heart. I have watched you loving him most of your life and dealing with the fallout every time he hurts you. I know he hasn’t done it intentionally, but I couldn’t stand back and say nothing. I have bitten my tongue for years.” He reaches out and touches my leg. “I shouldn’t have interfered, and I’m very sorry for it, but I will never apologize for trying to protect you. That is what I was trying to do.”
This is about protecting me?
Anger mushrooms inside me as I swing my legs onto the floor and stand. “You say that, yet you didn’t see what was right under your nose because you always make excuses for Anais.”
He frowns. “What are you talking about?” I guess Mom kept her promise and didn’t tell him what we discussed on Thursday, but she wasn’t happy I asked her to keep it a secret.
