A Secret for a Secret (All In #3)(63)

“I think you have some explaining to do.” He closes the door, cutting off the view of Kingston’s car, which is still idling outside the house. I watch through the window as he pulls away from the curb, and I feel like my heart’s been run over.

And it’s all my fault.

If I’d stayed and made sure Corey paid the fees, I wouldn’t be here now, in this horrible situation. But I didn’t make sure everything was taken care of, because I wanted to run away from my problem and never think about it again. And now I have to face the consequences, which are a hell of a lot steeper than $150.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. And I mean it. Wholly. Truly.

I’m sorry for so many things.

I’m sorry that my biological mother tricked him by lying and telling him she was on the pill when she wasn’t. I’m sorry that my dad was too hormonal to make a better, more informed decision and didn’t rubber up anyway. I’m sorry my mom bailed when I was a few months old. I’m sorry that my dad is such a good guy and decided he was going to raise me on his own.

He stands in the middle of the living room, looking like he’s been to hell and back. “I don’t want an apology. I want you to tell me what happened. Did you really marry him?”

I can handle so many things—his anger, his frustration, his irritation—but the look on his face right now is more than I can take. It’s not disappointment.

It’s failure.

I tell him everything I told Kingston, even the part when I walked in on Corey with someone else.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why would you keep this from me?”

Because then I would’ve had to explain why I did it in the first place. I was wrong to be worried about his disappointment or anger. His hurt is far worse. I take a seat next to him. “I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“I’m not disappointed, Queenie; I’m confused. I don’t understand why you made such a huge life decision on a whim and then kept it a secret for six years.”

“We’re not supposed to still be married.” I explain what happened with the divorce paperwork and why it never went through.

My dad rubs his temples. “It’s not the paperwork that’s a problem, Queenie. We can work on getting that taken care of starting tomorrow. It’s the fact that you were in that situation in the first place, and I had no idea. That’s my issue.”

I twist my hands in my lap, feeling very much like the eighteen-year-old girl I was when all this happened in the first place. “I thought if I had someone, you might try to find someone too.”

“Why would you think you needed to get married, though?”

“Because I was eighteen and an idiot.” And hungover at the time. “And I thought marriage and stability were synonymous with each other. It was an impulsive, bad decision, one I can’t ever undo, no matter how badly I wish I could, but at the time it seemed like a good solution. All you did was work and take care of me. I got caught up in the idea of having my own person, thinking it might help you move on too.” And he had started to, until I came back home.

My dad’s smile is sad. “Oh, honey, I chose to focus on you and work because those were the two things I cared the most about. I wasn’t ready to bring someone else into the mix. I wanted you to always be my top priority, especially since your mother wasn’t really in the picture, and when she was, all she did was cause you heartache.”

I can only imagine what she’s thinking now if she’s seen the media coverage of this train wreck. I’m sure she’d be gleeful over the fact that I married a hockey star and then botched up the divorce. “I didn’t want you to put your life on hold for me anymore.”

“I wasn’t putting it on hold for you, Queenie.” He takes my hand. “I didn’t trust myself to find someone who would be good for us. The last thing I wanted to do was bring a woman into our lives who was going to wreak more havoc on it. I tried dating on and off over the years, but I didn’t like the way it upset the balance.”

“I feel like that’s my fault. I sure didn’t make it easy for you.”

“You were a teenager; you weren’t supposed to make it easy. And maybe I should’ve tried harder to make one of those relationships work, but I wasn’t willing to risk making you feel as if you weren’t important. It was always us against the world, and I refused to let anyone who wasn’t worthy compromise our relationship.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I was a kid raising a baby, and then I was a thirty-three-year old with a teenager. I made mistakes with you: ones I might not have made if I’d had maturity and life experience on my side. So I’m sorry that I failed you along the way.”

“You didn’t fail me, Dad.”

“But I did. Somewhere along the way I failed to communicate that my lack of relationships wasn’t because of you; it was because I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

“I guess in my eighteen-year-old brain I thought me being married would give you the push you needed.”

My dad laughs. “Sending me links to dating apps would have given me a similar push.”

Both of our phones buzz—his from the table beside his recliner and mine from my purse. He nabs his, expression sobering as he scans the screen. “I’ve arranged a meeting with Corey and his agent so we can figure out the best way to deal with this. He’ll be issuing a public statement to help smooth things over; I can tell you that much. And we’ll get the divorce papers filed correctly, so that’s dealt with too.”