Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Text me if you need anything,” I say.
She nods. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.”
She leaves, and I stand at the window, watching her car pull away. The house is instantly quieter, emptier, but her presence lingers—the hair tie on my nightstand, the scent of her shampoo in the hall, the lipstick print on her coffee mug.
I clean up the kitchen, then go about my day, waiting for the next sound, the next knock, the next sign that she’s coming back.
It’s not the life I ever pictured. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like one I want to keep.
I’m halfway through chopping onions when the outside security light stabs through the kitchen window. Then, headlights pull into my driveway like laser beams, and there’s only one person in this town who brakes that hard. Sure enough, the engine rattles off, a car door detonates, and a heavy, burly silhouette launches up my walk with the posture of a man who’s about to either file a lawsuit or break my nose.
I wash the knife, wipe my hands on the towel, and check the hall. Eliza’s on the couch, curled around her phone, thumb scrolling. She just got back from work, and I don’t want to disturb her peace, but unfortunately, it’s inevitable.
The doorbell rings, three times in rapid fire. Even the chime sounds angry.
Eliza looks up, already pale. “Who is it? Is it—?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s your dad.”
She shrinks a little, pressing the phone to her chest. “I can’t. I can’t see him right now, Jack. I’ll lose it.”
“I’ll handle it,” I say in a low tone. “Stay here, okay?”
She nods, face drained, and disappears into the corner of the couch.
I open the door but step outside, pulling it tight behind me so Eliza doesn’t have to hear what’s coming. Gerald’s standing there, hands balled into fists, breath steaming in the cold. Up close, his rage is palpable, and in a way I don’t blame him. One of his oldest friends is fucking his beautiful, nubile daughter. Any man would be aggravated.
“Jack,” he says, voice low and vibrating.
“Evening, G.”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe I’m using the old nickname. “Don’t. Don’t pretend this is normal.”
“I’m not pretending anything,” I reply, calm. “Let’s talk out here. Eliza doesn’t need another round tonight.”
He glares, eyes red-rimmed. “Is she inside? I see her car.”
I nod.
He starts for the door, but I block him with one broad arm. “Let’s keep it civil, bud. We’re talking out here.”
He stops, but barely. “You’ve got some balls, motherfucker. After all I’ve done for you. After all we’ve—” He can’t finish the sentence, his voice snagged on years of friendship and barbecue and weekend fishing trips. “She’s my daughter. My only daughter, and you’re—” His face crumples in, like a soda can crushed from the top down.
“I know,” I say. “It’s not what you wanted.”
He barks a sharp, ugly laugh. “What I wanted? I wanted you to be my friend. I wanted you to look out for her like a goddamn uncle. Instead, you’re fucking my little girl! You’re—” His mouth works, searching for a word, but there’s nothing that covers the depth of his disgust.
“I love her, Gerald.”
He recoils. “You love her? She’s half your age, asshole. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Eliza’s not a kid. She’s a grown woman. And she’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met. I didn’t plan it, but I won’t lie about my feelings, either.”
He gets close, so close I can smell the sweat and raw fury. “Did you groom her? Is that what this was all along? You always showed up whenever you had leave. You bought her that bike—”
“I never touched her. Not until she came to me first. And she’s always been legal. I swear on my life.”
He’s not listening. “You could have any woman you want. But you had to go for my daughter?”
I don’t flinch. “I didn’t ‘go for’ anyone. We fell in love, Gerald. That’s it.”
He stares at me, chest heaving. “If you care about her, you’ll send her home. She’s not thinking straight.”
“Eliza’s thinking perfectly straight,” I say. “She’s made her choice.”
He’s about to explode, but then his voice breaks. “Nancy’s a mess. She hasn’t slept. She blames herself, you know? She thinks she drove Eliza to this with all her nagging about going back to school, life, and other random shit.”
I’m ready for anger, but not for the sudden collapse. “Tell Nancy it’s not her fault. Tell her Eliza is safe, and she’s happy. I swear I’ll never let anything happen to her.”
He shakes his head, eyes glossing over. “She was our little girl. You remember? She used to play in your backyard. She—” He stops, can’t say it. “Just let me talk to her. Please.”
I hesitate, then nod. “I’ll ask. But if she says no, you respect that.”