The blow lands. I see it in the way Grant's face goes pale, in the flash of pain in his eyes.
"That's enough." My voice is sharp.
My father shakes his head slowly. "So you really think this is going to work out? That you and Grant are going to ride off into the sunset with your twins and live happily ever after?"
"Yes." The word comes out more certain than I feel.
"You're delusional. The age gap alone—in ten years, you'll be thirty-four and he'll be fifty-two. In twenty years, you'll be in your prime and he'll be a senior citizen. Have you thought about that? About what your life is going to look like when the novelty wears off?"
"Stop." Grant's voice is low, dangerous. "You're trying to hurt her. That's all this is. You can direct your anger at me all you want, David, but leave Emma alone."
"Leave her alone?" My father laughs. "She's my daughter. My responsibility. And I will not stand by and watch you destroy her life."
"I'm not destroying anything. I love her."
"You love the idea of her." My father's voice is vicious. "Young, beautiful, desperate for validation from a powerful man. She's the perfect ego stroke for a divorcé going through a midlife crisis."
I see Grant flinch, see the muscle in his jaw jump.
"Get out." Grant's voice is quiet, controlled. "You've said enough."
"I've said enough?" My father's laugh is incredulous. "I'm just getting started. We need to talk about what happens next. About how we're going to handle this disaster you've created."
"There's nothing to handle," I say defiantly. "I'm pregnant. Grant and I are together and that's not going to change."
"Like hell it isn't." My father's eyes are hard. "You're going to end this. Walk away from him before you ruin both your lives."
"No."
"Emma—"
"No." I step closer to Grant, my hand finding his. "I'm not leaving him. And I'm not letting you control this."
My father stares at me for a long moment. Then he picks up his phone from the coffee table, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Then you're on your own." His voice is ice cold. "Don't come to me for money when he gets bored and leaves. Don't come crying to your mother when you realize what a mistake you've made. And don't—" His voice cracks. "Don't expect me to play grandfather to his children."
The words gut me.
"David—" Grant starts, but my father cuts him off with a look of pure hatred.
"You and I are done." His voice is final.
He moves toward the door.
"Dad, wait?—"
"Goodbye, Emma." He doesn't turn around. "I hope you understand what you're giving up."
The door slams behind him with a finality that echoes through every chamber of my heart.
I stand frozen for one horrible second.
Then my legs give out.
Grant catches me before I hit the floor, his arms wrapping around me as sobs tear out of my chest. Great, heaving gasps that feel like they're ripping me apart from the inside.
"I've got you," he murmurs into my hair. "I've got you, baby. You're okay."
