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I’m not a parent, but if I was and my child told me they no longer wanted anything to do with me, I would probably look a little upset. My dad’s expression doesn’t change.

“That’s it? You’re not even going to give me a chance to tell you my side of things?”

“Scarlett was eighteen for a week when she got pregnant. She’s younger than Fallon. I promise, your side of the story isn’t going to change my mind.” His jaw tightens.

Caitlin’s high-pitched squeal catches my attention, and I look over my dad’s shoulder, smiling at the sight of her and Fallon having a snowball fight. If the snow covering Fallon’s hair is anything to go by, she’s losing.

“Listen, you’ve already fucked things up beyond repair with me, Ronan, and Fallon,” I tell my dad. “But you still have a chance to make things right with Caitlin and James. You just need to be here. It’s not too late to be the dad they deserve.”

He nods but makes no promises. Not that I’d believe him if he did. For Caitlin and James’s sake, I hope he tries. I hope he puts in the effort. But I’ve been disappointed too many times by my dad to believe he actually will.

37

Scarlett

Piper brandishes her phone at me. “I know you won’t be okay with me doing this for you, so let’s call it an extra Christmas present or birthday present.” She already gave me a gorgeous new pair of boots for my birthday (that actually fit!), and a whole pile of my favorite things for Christmas a couple of days ago. I really don’t need anything else.

There’s a listing for a cabin in a town a twenty-minute drive away on her screen. “What is this?” I ask, swiping through the pictures. It’s beautiful, with a mountain view, a fireplace, and a hot tub. The swimsuit she gave me for Christmas makes sense now.

“Two nights away for you and Killian. Tonight.”

“Wait, what? Tonight?” I stare at her wide-eyed.

“Tonight. You’re off work until the new year, and I knew if I told you in advance, you’d find some way to tell me it was too much or try and get out of it. I already okayed everything with Killian.”

“She did,” he confirms from the sink, where he’s washing our breakfast dishes. Piper made us pancakes, and he insisted on washing up.

“But I—”

“Nope,” Piper says. “No arguments. You’re going. You and McTwinkle Toes need time to yourself to just do … well, you know. But also, you need time and space to talk, away from the ex-boyfriend-slash-baby-daddy-slash-actual-daddy.”

That does sound nice. A couple of days to switch off and just be with Killian … It seems too good to be true, with Dom here.

And speak of the devil, the kitchen door swings open, and he walks in. Piper doesn’t bother to hide her eye roll. He doesn’t pay us any attention, though, as he opens the fridge and grabs a soda.

“Thank you, but this really isn’t the best time.” I sigh, nodding my head to his back.

“Ugh. I would argue that that means this is the perfect time.”

“What about the kids? I can’t just abandon them for two days.”

“You think I didn’t plan for them? Obviously, I’m going to take them. Stop trying to wiggle out of it. You’re going,” she says, her tone leaving little room for arguing.

“You’re leaving?” Dom asks, turning to face us and leaning against the fridge. Killian tenses at his dad’s voice. Since they talked on Christmas Day, he’s been finding it harder and harder to tolerate having him around. He took a last-minute work meeting at Piper’s this morning, and though he said he didn’t want to ask the kids to be quiet, I’m pretty sure he just needed space from his dad. I’m not the only one who needs to get away.

“Yeah,” I tell him, and Piper smiles like she’s won a gold medal, just because I’ve agreed to go. “Piper booked a cabin twenty minutes away so I won’t be far. And she’ll take the kids.”

“But I’m here,” he replies.

I can’t hide the confusion from my face. Does he think I need to be here to host him? “So?”

“So, why is Piper taking the kids? I’m their dad. I can look after them for a couple of days.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have five children. I know what I’m doing.”

He can’t be serious. Killian drops something in the sink, and Piper actually snorts. I kick her under the table. “You don’t know any of their routines, what they like to eat … anything. You’ve been here for days and haven’t even read them a bedtime story.”