“How so?” he asks.
“Because I haven’t talked to her since the day of the fight.”
“Why the hell not?” he asks.
“Because she lied to me. About being pregnant,” I state, lifting my glass for another sip.
“So what?” he blurts out, and my hand stops before the rim touches my lips. I set the glass back down.
“So, she’s pregnant with my child and didn’t tell me. And I don’t know when she planned on telling me. Considering our agreement and the money involved, I don’t know what her intentions were.”
“Bullshit,” my dad says. My gaze darts back up to him as he shakes his head. “I call bullshit. You’re just making excuses.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I growl. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because you’re scared. You’re both scared,” he says, and when I don’t respond, he goes on. “The way I see it, you two never intended to fall for each other. The plan was to pretend to be inlove so you could get married, pull one over on me, high five and call it good. Am I wrong?”
“No,” I mutter. “That was the plan.”
“But falling in love with her for real wasn’t the plan. And everyone from me to you to your friends watched it happen. The two of you were the last to admit it. And then when things got hairy, it all derailed. I don’t think you’re mad that she’s pregnant. Or even that she kept it from you. I think that when all the shit hit the fan, you realized you were at risk of losing everything. And the idea of losing everything plus the baby you just found out about was too much. So you threw a wall up in an attempt to protect yourself, and in the process you barricaded yourself from the people you love. Am I wrong?” he asks, and my head is throbbing.
He’s not wrong. That’s one of the most infuriating things about my father. When he pulls his head out of his own ass long enough to consider other people, he’s not the worst person in the world. It’s just hard to put faith in that because he usually has about a two-second rebound before his head is back in his ass again.
I’m starting to think therapy would have been a good idea after my mom died.
“No. You’re right,” I admit, and he nods. He doesn’t say anything; he just nods. “Two things happened in that moment that his fist met my cheek. One, I knew he was wearing brass, and I was fucked. And the other was I saw Mila’s face, and it was filled with fear because she knew. That’s a look I never want to see again, and I’ll never forget it. Then, when she hit the ground and her body hit the concrete with so much force…that’s a feeling I never want to feel again.”
“So talk to her,” he says. “Fix things.”
“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” I say.
“Sure it is.”
“But what if I've already messed up too much?” I ask. “What if it isn’t fixable?”
My dad just smiles. “I’m here, aren’t I? In terms of things you put money on never happening, I think hell is looking a little less frosty right now. I say go for it.”
And with that, I pour each of us another finger of whiskey that we drink in silence. It’s not because things are tense, but because for the first time in years, they’re not.
Chapter 44
Mila
“I still don’t understandwhy you have to go,” Lainey says as I fold my laundry and tuck it into the suitcase I’ve been living out of for the past week and a half.
“There’s nothing for me here,” I tell her, and she immediately pouts. I stop and stand up, taking my friend’s hands in mine. “I didn’t mean it like that,” I say.
“You can live with me. You and the baby. I can waitress, and you can work at the dance studio,” she says.
“I can’t work at the studio,” I tell her, tears stinging my eyes for the hundredth time today.
“Why not?” she asks.
“Because Dom owns the building. Which means he owns the studio. And considering he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, I assume that means I no longer work at the studio,” I answer, going back to packing.
“So we can both waitress,” she says, but I shake my head. “He’s part of the Cockpit too. He’s everywhere here, Lainey.”
“So we go work somewhere else together. Alternating shifts. We can take care of the baby together,” she offers desperately, and I hug her.
