Second Chance Boyfriend (Drew + Fable #2)(30)

Fuck. I can’t finish the thought.

“She probably is,” Dad readily agrees. “But if she keeps it up, I might not be ready to let her go yet.”

He’s an idiot. I want to tell him that, but I keep my mouth shut. Their problems are none of my business. “I guess that’s up to you,” is all I say in response.

“Listen. We talked a lot last night, Adele and I. She wants you to come home for the summer. She says she misses you and wishes you were around more. And I agree. Could you consider it? For us?”

That would be a mighty hell no, but I’m not going to be a dick to my dad now. He’s still too fragile over this whole should-I-divorce-or-not deal with Adele. And look at her, trying to worm her way back into my life. Trying to get me to go back there. Does she think I’m an idiot? “I gotta go, Dad. Call me if you need to talk again.”

“Tell me you’ll at least consider it, son. Adele misses you and loves you so much. Ever since we lost Vanessa, she hasn’t been the same. You know this. You could bring some happiness back into her life.”

“See ya, Dad.” I hang up before he can say anything else. I don’t think I could stand it.

My appetite gone, my nerves shot, I pace around my apartment, completely on edge. I throw on some shoes and try and go for a run but all I can think about is my dad staying with Adele. Of her trying to convince me to go back home and spend the summer with them. I can’t go back there. Thanksgiving had been bad enough. I still haven’t fully accepted what she told me. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around her revelation.

Could my little sister really have been my…daughter?

Panic fills me and I stop running, glancing around as I stand in the middle of the sidewalk. Wishing like hell I had someone to talk to. Anyone.

Fable.

But she’s at work. It’s late afternoon and her shift started at three or four. Hell, I can’t remember. I can’t waltz back into her life and lay the heavy shit on her anyway. I wish like hell it wasn’t a Sunday or I’d call Dr. Harris…

Deciding to hell with it, I yank my phone out of my sweats pocket and dial her number. She answers on the third ring.

“I’m surprised to hear from you on a Sunday,” is how she greets me. “Are you all right?”

“Not really,” I admit, thankful she doesn’t berate me for contacting her on her day off. “My dad called.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound good. Lucky you, I’m in the mood for a coffee. Want to meet for one in, say, twenty minutes?”

Relief floods me. How did I get so lucky to find Dr. Harris in the first place? Maybe this isn’t commonplace, her meeting a patient for coffee on a Sunday afternoon, but I need to get all this bullshit off my chest. Not just the bad stuff that happened with my dad, but also my night and morning with Fable. “I’ll be there,” I tell her after she rattles off an address of a nearby Starbucks.

* * * *

“So how do you feel about what your dad said?”

I take a drink of my iced coffee. “I’d rather he divorce her. I want her out of my life for good.”

“I thought Adele was already out of your life.” Doc looks at me in that certain way she has. The one that reminds me I’m an adult and I’m the one in charge of what happens to me.

“She is. But I want her out of my dad’s life too. As long as she’s still married to him, she’s a barrier between us. One I don’t want to cross,” I say with a finality I desperately want to believe in.

“That’s you’re decision to make and one you’re allowed to have. You know it will hurt your father if you cut him off completely without an explanation.” She sips from her straw, her expression one of utter contentment, but I know what she’s trying to do.

“No way am I telling him what happened between Adele and me. He’ll hate me for it.” I shake my head.

“He shouldn’t. You’re his son. You were a child when it started. You were a child when you put a stop to it. She was in the wrong. Don’t you think he’ll see that?” she asked, her voice soft.

I have no idea. I’m too scared to take that chance. “He’ll see what he wants to see. He’ll believe what he wants.”

“Do you really have that little of faith in your dad?”

Ouch. I never thought of it like that before. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in him. It’s just…she knows how to twist everything up. She’s a master manipulator and she’s been playing the both of us for years.”

“You give her too much power. She knows it and she revels in it,” Dr. Harris points out.

I shrug. “Maybe I do. It’s easier to avoid her rather than face the truth.”

“You know how I feel about you constantly running away from your problems. It’s not healthy. And they always catch up to you sooner or later.” She takes another sip of her drink and then pushes the cup aside so she can rest her arms on the edge of the table. “Enough focusing on the bad. Let’s talk about the good. Let’s talk about Fable.”

Just like that, I’m smiling as I study my cup, running my finger through the condensation that’s formed there. “I already told you I was with her last night.”

“Have you two talked much?”