“Blue…” he tried saying, but I just shook my head as the taste of betrayal burned my throat.
“I don’t want anything from you. You can keep Fiddlers. Hell, you can burn it to the ground for all I care. That bar was the only thing I ever wanted from you, and now it’s nothing but a neon sign flashing the word idiot over my head.”
I stumbled back into the elevator, my chin tilted high, my shoulders locked like armor. He didn’t deserve to see me break. Not him. Not ever.
But the second the doors closed, the dam shattered. A million pieces of me hit the floor at once, my sobs echoing off the mirrored walls as the elevator took me away from the man who had touched parts of me no one else had ever seen.
I raced home in Lisa’s car, tears blurring the road as everything replayed in my head. I had gone there to confront West, to tell him I knew I was the butt of some twisted joke. I thought if I called him out, it would give me back a shred of dignity, maybe help me feel like less of an idiot.
But the second I stepped into his office and heard his lawyer talking in that smug and careless way, I nearly threw up.
It was worse than I’d imagined. So much worse.
“...you were never legally married, so you don’t owe her a thing. Not the lake house, not a car, not her father’s care. She’s lucky she’s even getting that shithole bar. And as for her sister? Don’t lose sleep. That kid isn’t a kid anymore, and I’m sure this whole sob story is just a ploy to squeeze you for child support. We’ll handle your little… teenage transgression. Four or five zeros, problem solved.”
Not only had I fallen for West’s game, but the truth clicked in like a blade twisting. It had been about Brittany all along. Like I was a means to his continued punishment. A stand-in for the mistake that ruined him.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, my chest was raw, my eyes swollen. Lisa and Dad were sitting at the dining room table, working on a puzzle. I quietly handed Lisa her car keys and thanked her for being with him. Then I locked myself away in my bedroom.
Dad knocked a few times, asking if I was okay or if I wanted something to eat. I kept answering “no, thank you,” because I couldn’t face him, not yet, not like this. Not when he’d just gotten out of the hospital. He deserved one good day before I dropped the weight of my stupidity on him.
It wasn’t until I heard him call through the door that he was going to bed that I crept out for a snack. My phone was buzzing nonstop with calls from my sister, a text from Marshal asking if I needed anything, and one from West telling me we needed totalk. I turned it off and shoved it in a drawer. The world could wait.
I didn’t even care about Fiddlers anymore. It’d be a cold day in hell before I’d ever take that deal from West. I didn’t even know which part of his promises were real and which were lies, but it was safer to assume it was all bullshit.
The rest of the night, I tossed and turned. I’m sure I slept a little, but it didn’t feel like it. My mind wouldn’t shut off as I kept running scenarios, explanations, and ways to make myself feel like less of a fool.
By morning, I heard Dad moving around, so I joined him in the living room with a mug of coffee. He was staring out the window the way he always did. When he finally turned toward me, he gave me that soft, sad smile that always made me feel six years old again.
“What’s going on, Baby Blue?”
It had been a long time since he called me that, not just because of my eyes, but because I’d always be his baby.
I took a few shaky breaths, mustering the courage, and finally told him. About West. About the deal. About the marriage that wasn’t. I spilled it all, bracing for his disappointment.
But he never looked disappointed. He didn’t even look surprised. He just smiled, slow and proud, and nodded like I’d handed him good news.
For a second, I thought maybe he thought I was joking. But when I finished, he tilted his head, eyes soft with understanding.
“Well,” he said simply, “I already knew there was more to the story than you were telling. But it doesn’t feel like a lie, not the way you’re making it out to be.”
Of course he’d find some kind of silver lining. The man could forgive anyone, just like he had my sister and my mother. But it didn’t sit right with me.
“I don’t see how it’s not a lie,” I muttered.
“It’s not,” he said firmly. “Neither of you lied as much as you think you did. Maybe to yourselves, sure. But to each other? No. Anyone who’s seen you two together knows there’s something real there.”
He had officially lost his marbles and rode off into delusional land. There was no sense arguing what happened between West and I, there was more I needed to let Dad know about. More I needed to ask him about.
“Have you spoken to Brittany?”
His brow furrowed. “Not since you went to Virginia Beach. Why?”
“Did you tell her I was seeing West Brooks?”
“I didn’t have to.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “There was a picture of you on Loxley Adams’ Instagram. She called me, asked if that was you. I figured you knew about it, so I didn’t say no.”
“What?” I started to grab my phone, but he pulled his out and faced it toward me, showing me the picture. It wasn’t like it was a picture of me, it was of Loxley leaving the room we had been in before the show. But West and I were holding hands in the background, eyeing one another like we were truly in love.
