The Bromance Book Club (Bromance Book Club, #1)(88)

He let out another one of those impressed laughs. “I know I was a shitty father, and I know I’m a sad cliché for hoping that it’s not too late to make up for that.”

“It is,” she said, more steam billowing out. “It’s too late.”

“Then you should be happy to know that I suffer for it. I have to stand back and see the woman you’ve become, the woman your sister has become, and know I can’t be part of it. I see your gorgeous daughters and know I can’t be a grandfather to them.”

Thea let her hands fall to her lap as her mouth dropped open. “No, that doesn’t make me happy to know that. At all. It makes me really sad, because it didn’t have to be that way. You chose to stand on the sideline of our lives, to replace us over and over again with someone else.”

“I’ve never tried to replace you, Thea.”

The fissure whistled with fresh steam. “You let your second wife sell our house. You let her say that we couldn’t live with you. You chose her and every other woman over your daughters. Why?”

“Because you and Liv were better off without me!”

The fissure becoming an eruption. “Is that really what you tell yourself?”

“It’s what I told myself then. I was never going to be the kind of man who coached your softball team or, or—”

“Made Saturday morning pancakes?”

“I made money. That’s what I did, and I did it well, and that’s how I could be a father to you.”

“Well, while you were telling yourself that, Liv and I were growing up believing something was wrong with us. Something that made people leave us, would always make people leave us. And now I’m about to lose my husband because I pushed him away out of fear.”

Dan looked over sharply. “What’s going on with you and Gavin?”

She waved her hands to ward off the question. “I’m not here for fatherly advice, so don’t, like, pull a muscle or anything. Just tell me one thing.”

Oh, God. She was going to do it. She was going to ask the question that had haunted her her entire life.

“Do you regret . . .” She puffed out a breath. “Me?”

“Never,” Dan said, his voice rough and certain. “Never. Not once.”

Thea closed her eyes.

“Look at me,” her father ordered. And for the second time, she met his gaze directly. “Your mother getting pregnant was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was simply too stupid and selfish to know how to be the father you deserved.”

The door to the church opened, and a frantic-looking woman in a red suit emerged, her head darting back and forth.

Dan sighed.

“Is that the wedding planner?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks like she’s afraid the groom got cold feet. You better go in.”

He nodded, lost in thought for a moment. Then he opened his door. “I hope you’ll stay,” he said. “But I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Thea watched him jog across the street. The wedding planner spotted him and threw her hands in the air.

Dan soothed her, apparently reassured her, because they turned and walked up the stairs to the church. At the doors, he looked back.

And then he walked inside.

Thea wiped her hands across her cheeks. Great. Now her makeup would be streaked. Which, actually, was as good an excuse as any for leaving.

She looked at her purse on the floor, where she’d irrationally and impulsively shoved The Annoying Countess when she left this morning.

Thea pulled the book from her purse and opened it to the place where she’d stopped reading last night.



    Benedict blinked. Coughed. Tugged on his coat. “I—I will have our coach brought around.”

“You mistake me, my lord. I’m going to the country.”

No. Dear God, no. “Irena, please.”

“I cannot heal a festering wound that you refuse to acknowledge, Benedict, nor will I allow myself to be blamed for it.”

“I haven’t asked you to do either.”

“You may visit when you feel you are ready for an heir, and we can negotiate the terms of—” her voice caught—“of procreation. But I can’t do this.”

“Irena, please. I love you.”

“I thought you’d learned at least that much, my lord. Love isn’t enough.”



What bullshit. What utter molly-coddled bullshit.

Love is enough.

It’s always enough.

Thea got out of the car and jogged in her heels across the street. She walked in with barely five minutes to spare. A woman in a pink suit gave her a program and a dirty look when she quick-stepped through the vestibule. A string quartet played something soft and romantic as Thea walked in. The groomsmen had already lined up along the altar in matching dark gray tuxedos. She didn’t recognize a single man up there, save her father, who stood by the pastor, hands clasped in front and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet like a nervous, first-time groom.

Thea slid into a seat in the second-to-last pew, earning an annoyed glare from another couple, as the string quartet began to play “Canon in D.” Bridesmaids in emerald green dresses slow-walked down the aisle clutching red roses. Then the congregation rose and turned for the big moment—the bride. Her new stepmother.