I nod.
I have so much on my mind, I’m not very productive this morning.
I need to talk this out with someone.
“I think I’m going to head out,” I say. Sammie gives me a sympathetic smile.
How does something like this even happen to me? To us.
I wash my hands, gather my purse, and head out the door.
I need to talk to Dutton.
What happens when his mom finds out that my mom was one of them? Will she hate me?
It’d be a natural reaction toward the daughter of your husband's mistress. Or one of them. I don’t know.
I don’t want Dutton to have to pick between his mother and me.
I don’t know what I'm doing.
I take a few more steps and stop. I’m right in front of the police station.
I could avoid this for another day or two, maybe more. Pretend like I don’t know anything and go back to my bubble, where I was about to tell the wonderful man I'm with that I love him, and we can both pretend our parents don’t exist.
Or I can walk in there and demand that my father talk to me so that I can have a better idea of what to do with Dutton and move on with my life.
I was finally happy.
Iamfinally happy.
In a way I never thought I could be.
I pull the door open and walk in. Kimmy smiles when she sees me.
“Hi, hun, what can I do for you?"
“Is my dad here?”
I fully expect her to say no, because that’s the answer I always get, but she just smiles wider and nods.
“He sure is.”
The sound of the buzzer fills the room, and I walk straight to his office before I lose my nerve.
He’s got his head down, papers in front of him, when I walk in. He doesn’t look up, but he does know I’m here.
“Brooke,” he says. “I didn’t expect you this morning.”
“I know why you don’t like Dutton,” I blurt out.
He sets the paper down and focuses on me.
“It’s because of Mom, isn’t it? Mom and Mr. Richford.”
He lets out a big breath and leans back.
“Who told you?”
