Aaron.
“Now he’s trying to ruin my credibility. And you see what he did to my face! Do you really want your daughter around someone who can’t control his temper?”
“Aaron, that’s enough,” she hisses.
“Alie, I don’t know why you’re believing him. Have I ever given you a reason to think I’d lie to you?”
“Aaron, just stop,” she pleads.
He laughs. “He wasn’t here. I was.”
My fists clench, my blood boils.
For a split second, all I see is red thinking of—his smug face, the years he stole, the lies he let her believe.
“You lied to both of us,” she says. “You kept us from being a family.”
“I did what was best.”
“For who?” she demands, her voice rough with anger.
“For you! For her!” he snaps. “He left.”
“He went back to New Orleans because he had to. And I left him that morning, not the other way around. I should have stayed and asked him instead of making assumptions.”
“Still, he wasn't here.” He goads.
“He didn’t know I was pregnant!”
He huffs. “You think this ends well? Football always wins for him. And it always will.”
“That’s not true. And you don’t know him at all,” she says.
“You want stability for her?” he presses. “Or do you want headlines and uncertainty?”
That’s it. That’s the manipulation. Thefor her sakeangle.
“Stop,” she says, firmly.
There’s a pause.
“I’ve trusted you for most of my life,” she continues. “How could you lie to me?”
“I’ve protected you.”
“No, you tried to control me,” she corrects.
Silence.
“And you can’t ever be in our lives after this,” she says, voice shaking.
“Alie—”
“No,” she says calmly. “Anything athlete-related from here on out can go through my dad. We’re done.”
“You’re making a mistake,” he claims.
“No,” she says quietly. “I already made the mistake of trusting you. I won’t do it again. I stand by Liam and his word.”
