“I never knew Beck Ryder was your favorite Bro Code band member,” Daphne says to Bea. “I always pegged you for a Davis Remington stan.”
“I’m a sucker for a golden retriever type. What can I say?” Bea grins. “But Davis Remington definitely would’ve shown up in disguise if he was coming to tell any of us he was secretly our half brother.”
“You would’ve always wondered if they liked you for you or if they liked being related to… well,this,” Oliver says, gesturing to the view and my penthouse in general.
“They’re friends with people who havethis,” I reply.
“Not the same as being related.”
“You know, don’t you?” I say to him. “The bigger reason I didn’t tell them.”
“Know? No. That’s too much thinking. Take an educated guess when my brain insists on being an asshole that wants to think about it anyway? Yeah. Yeah, I have a guess.”
Daphne grins. “Your brainlikesthinking.”
“Stupid brain.”
Stupid brain.
My eyes start to water again.
My stupid brain is broken too.
Daph leans closer to me. “Are you really trying to destroy our father?” she murmurs.
“Yes. I mean—that was the plan.”
“Margot.” She squeezes my arm. “If that’ll make you happy, I’m here for it, but don’t do it if you’re doing it just for me.”
I glance past her at Oliver again.
He pretends he doesn’t know I’m looking at him.
Bea’s concentrating hard on her breakfast plate too.
“I dislike injustice,” I tell Daphne. “I don’t like that no one has ever held him accountable for any of the shitty things he’s done. So yes, I’m partially doing it for you. I’m partially doing it for me. And I’m partially doing it for the world at large.”
“Is that why the triplets are mad? Because you asked for their help?”
I shake my head. “They were mad that I lied about who I really am. I think they realize how much it might complicate their lives to be related to us. If I’d never taken that test, if we’d never found out we were related, if I hadn’t gone to Colorado—then they wouldn’t have to worry about what their sperm donor might do.”
“Margot. Their mother knew who he was.”
“You can’t blame her for keeping that from them though. She—” I rub my eyes.
The pain and fear etched in her face last night?—
I did that to her.
I’m not my father. I bear no responsibility for whatever happened between the triplets’ mom and my father.
But itismy fault they had to face it as a family.
“She was protecting them,” I finish softly.
Daphne sighs heavily, which is one more thing weighing on my conscience.
I don’t want to be the reason she worries.
