Page 56 of Tempted By the Bosshole

Halfway to my car, I stop and whirl on him. “That’s Isabella’s choice. From this point on, everything should be. I’m sorry you had brain cancer. I’m sorry you struggled with your health. For the record, when we were business partners, I considered you my best friend. I would have told you to take the money and go to Brazil. You didn’t need to steal the funds from me. And you didn’t need to take Julia, either. If you two had been honest and told me you had feelings for each other, I would have let her go. But you both ducked and lied. I get that you handled your life the way you thought you should. But I did the same. I love your daughter.” I turn to my wife. “Listen to me, Isabella. Unless you tell me that you have zero feelings for me and want a divorce, I will never let you go. I’ll love you until you believe me…or I die.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Isabella

As I let my father in the house I’ve shared with Nathan for the past week and a half, my hands shake.

Dad had cancer. Twice. I’ve spent years resenting a man who was fighting for his life. I’m ashamed that I assumed he didn’t care about anyone else. But he also isn’t blameless. He wasn’t honest. He never shared his trials with his family.

I don’t know how to feel about that.

Dad shucks his jacket. I follow suit and hang both up in the coat closet. I’m stalling, trying to buy time. I don’t know what to say.

“Coffee?” I shut the door and face him.

Watching me with an inscrutable stare, he shakes his head. “I don’t need caffeine this late in the evening. But more than that, I don’t want to waste time. Nate and I haven’t been good friends in over a decade, but one thing I know? He never lets anything sit for long. He’ll be back sooner rather than later.”

I’ve only known Nathan for a few weeks, but I’m convinced Dad is right. “Let’s sit.”

When I direct my father to the living room, he plants in a chair and watches me sit on the edge of the sofa. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, precisely?” I’m glad Dad knows he screwed up, but I’m not sure he really comprehends that his actions affected my whole life.

“For not being around.” He huffs in frustration. “If I’d never gotten sick, if I’d never been forced to leave the country for months and months at a time?—”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but it’s the reason I was never there for you.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“It is. My cancer kept us apart.”

“I’m stunned and saddened that you endured such a serious health scare by yourself. I can’t imagine how terrifying, difficult, and lonely that was. My heart goes out to you. You forged on bravely, despite what I’m sure were some dark days where it would have been easier to give up.”

“Dark days, hell. Dark weeks. Dark months. Earlier this summer, I wasn’t responding to treatment at all. I thought I was going to die. It was?—”

“Horrible in every sense of the word. I’m sure it put you in touch with your mortality far younger than you expected. But let’s be clear. You kept us apart.”

“Izzy—”

“You did. You didn’t have to go through any of that without me. You chose to. One phone call. One.” I hold up a finger. “And I would have been your sounding board. I would have cheered you on. I would have cried with you. I would even have come to Brazil to hold your hand. But you chose another man’s wife.”

“I didn’t want you to see me at my worst.”

“I appreciate that you wanted to shield me from your illness and deal with it in your own way.”

“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere.”

“But you shut me out. I was a child, and you never thought about my feelings and how your choices affected them. You didn’t grasp that I was growing up with not just a father, but a daddy.” I try to stop the emotions from pouring out, but there’s no holding my tears back. “After you left, I was crushed and confused. I had so many issues. So many questions. What did I do wrong? Was I such a horrible child that I drove you away?”

“Oh, kiddo. No. Of course not. It had nothing?—”

“To do with me? As an adult, I understand. As a kid? I couldn’t begin to. Mom tried to explain that you leaving had more to do with her and the divorce, but those felt like kind lies. I was sure I’d been too mouthy, too difficult. I stopped speaking up and stopped fighting back. I stopped advocating for myself—in school, friendships, even work. I never wanted to rock the boat or drive people away.”

“You should never let anyone silence you.”

“No one was around to tell me that. You were gone. Mom was working multiple jobs to keep a roof over our heads. So I got quieter. That clamming up carried into my romantic relationships. I let my one and only boyfriend walk all over me for six years. He took me for granted and hurt my feelings all the time, but I let him because…what if he left me and I was alone again? Even the question made me panic.”

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