Page 59 of The Addendum

“Did Richard ask you to call me?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “He was worried but wanted to give you space.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “He can stop worrying. It’s not his concern.”

“He would argue that point,” Halton replied, then paused. “He’s available to you whenever you want to talk,” he said quietly. “He would like to speak with you.”

“I’m not ready.” I hung up, even more confused. The call made Richard seem caring. My mother said he was anything but.

Which was the real Richard?

The past and the present were on a constant loop in my mind. My mother and her assertions that my father was cold. Narcissistic. Unfeeling. That he never wanted her or me.

The firm assurances from Richard—my father—that he never knew about me. That he would have helped my mother in some aspect. He admitted he had been everything my mother accused him of being, but that he had changed. He certainly seemed to be everything Luc and Halton said he was. The man whom Heather had gushed over as the “greatest dad ever.”

But the question that plagued me was—had he known? Had he chosen not to love me? Was he trying to cover up his past mistakes to save face with the family he did love?

The insecure little girl who still dwelled somewhere deep inside me was too scared to admit she wanted to be seen and loved. The woman I became refused to admit she needed that.

And I had taken it out on Luc. Gotten angry with him. I knew he was in a tenuous position. The man I was angry with was part of the family who had accepted him and taken him in. Gave him a place to belong. He thought the world of all the men, including Richard. In my anger, I was effectively asking him to choose between us.

The rational, strong woman I usually was would never have done that.

I was a roiling pot of contradictions and feelings.

None of them good.

I rounded the corner, stopping at the sight of the deep blue Audi in my driveway and the tall man leaning against the car, staring down at his phone.

Luc.

In the sunlight, his hair caught the brightness, the ends turning gold. Dressed in tailored pants and a blue dress shirt, he had loosened his tie, his top button undone. I knew inside his car would be his black leather jacket. He was sexy and stern-looking, frowning at his phone. I loved the fact that he always dressed up for work instead of the normal outfit of jeans and T-shirts some of his staff preferred. He rocked the business casual well. He liked wild ties and colored shirts. Funky shoes. When he dressed in a suit, he was beyond handsome, but his style suited him. Edgy, fun, and completely stimulating. At least to me, although I was certain the women where he worked appreciated it as well.

My breath caught as I studied him. I had missed him so much. A hundred times, I had picked up my phone to call and apologize, only to set it back down again. But he had come to me. I drew in a ragged breath, unable to stop staring at him.

He glanced up, seeing me, and pushed off the car. He strode to the end of the driveway, staring and not speaking.

Then he held out his arms, and I broke into a run, rushing as fast as I could to get to him.

He braced himself as I lunged the last couple of feet, his arms going around me tightly, holding me close. A sob escaped my mouth, and his grip tightened.

“It’s okay, love. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” he soothed. “I understand.”

“I was awful.”

He set me on my feet, cupping my face. “You were upset and hurting. You still are.” He bent and brushed his mouth to mine. “I couldn’t stay away anymore.”

I gripped his wrists. “Please forgive me. Stay. I need you, Luc.”

He wrapped me in his arms again. “Yes, love. I’ll stay. We’ll figure this out.”

I let him lead me into the house.

18