Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game(51)

My heart did a funny constricting squeeze in my chest at his words. But before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Yeah, well, you coulda fooled me!” When Joe’s brows shot up in surprise, I said, “I’m sorry. That didn’t exactly come out right.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “And I never hated you.”

He looked at me in surprise. “You didn’t?”

I shook my head. “No, not really. I was just pissed off at you.”

“Because I didn’t stick around after you were born?”

“Yeah, and some other things.” I stared at him a long minute. “Can I ask you some things?”

“Sure.”

I drew in a breath. “My mother…did you ever love her?”

A sad expression came across his face. “You want the truth, right?”

“Yeah.”

Joe exhaled a ragged breath. “I wish I could say yes, but I didn’t.”

Ouch, that comment made me feel like I’d taken a karate chop to the groin. “Why?” I croaked.

“Because I was a twenty-one year old ass**le who didn’t know what love was! Believe me, it’s taken me years to finally find it,” he replied. He shook his head. “Noah, I want you to know I admit I was a first rate jackass towards your mother. Since you’re older, I think you can understand a little bit where I was coming from-” At the death glare I shot him, he gave a weary smile. “Or maybe not.”

“No, I think I get what you’re saying. It’s just simple biology, right? You were just a horny frat boy alone in the middle of nowhere with a beautiful, innocent girl, right? It must’ve been a hell of a conquest to be her first.”

Joe’s expression darkened. “Your mother was never a conquest to me, Noah.”

“Then what was she?”

Turning away, he refused to meet my intense stare. “There’s no denying she was beautiful—she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with.”

“Guess that’s saying a lot,” I growled.

He held up his hand. “But it was more than that with Maggie. I knew she loved me—maybe even adored me. I’d seen it building for years—maybe from the first time I’d met her when she was just an awkward fourteen-year-old girl in braces. Then it was like she blossomed in front of me-”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s such a f**king cliché!”

Joe didn’t flinch at my language or comment. He merely shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth, and you said you wanted the truth.” He eyed me before he continued. “During her senior year, things started to change between us. She grew bolder and even flirty—I think it even surprised her. And then that summer we were together every day. We’d go for long walks, swim in the lake, but mostly we talked. She was the only person who had ever really listened to me.” Joe stared down at his hands and cleared his throat. “And then it happened. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen—”

I interrupted him by snorting.

He glanced at me. “I really didn’t, Noah. When I was young, I went out of my way to seduce girls. But it wasn’t that way with your mother. When I crossed that line, I threw everything away I had with your Uncle Mark and your grandparents.” A disgusted expression came over his face. “But I did it anyway. I was stupid and selfish, and in the end, I was a jerk who only thought with his dick.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. “How is she?” he tentatively asked.

“She’s good. She’s getting married.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I knew that.”

“You did?”

“I’ve had my spies.”

Suddenly, anger boiled in my veins. “Why did you have to have someone check-up on us? Why couldn’t your sorry ass come and see for yourself? Better yet, why didn’t you come for me?”

Holy Hell, I was fighting back the hot angry tears that scorched against my eye-lids. Willing myself not to cry, I bit my lip until the metallic taste of blood rushed through my mouth. I’d be damned if I’d let my father see me cry like a pansy ass Mama’s Boy.

“Noah, none of what I’m about to tell you is an excuse for my actions, but I want you to understand why I did what I did.” He shuddered. “I’ll admit that for many years, it didn’t bother me that I had no relationship with you. I was immature and immersed in my own good times. It wasn’t until my daughter was born that I realized what I’d lost with you. By then, I figured it was too late. I imagined you would be so angry and bitter for what I’d done to your mother and to you that you wouldn’t want to see me—”

“But I was just a kid. You could have forced me to see you, and I would have come around!” I protested.

Joe shook his head wildly back and forth. “I would’ve never done that to you. You see, my parents divorced when I was five. Your grandfather was an alcoholic, sometimes abusive. I never wanted to go with him on his weekends. I’d cry and cling to my mother, but he’d unwrap me from her and force me into the car. Several times, she tried to stop him by locking me in the house, but he just ended up calling the police.” He sighed and stared down at his hands. “Those are memories that still haunt me, and I’ve spent years and thousands of dollars in therapy trying to overcome them.”