Page 66 of Lillian

“I’ll get her some more medicine,” Lillian says with a worried look. Just as she goes to walk away, the doorbell rings. With Grace still in my arms, I head over to answer it, confused, because the doorman in the lobby typically rings up if I have a visitor. Nobody has access to the top floor except…

Shit.

I look at Lillian, but she’s focused on pouring Grace’s meds, so there isn’t any time to warn her as a knock rings out this time.

I sigh but swing open the door to see my dad standing in the hallway, looking for all the world like he’d love to lay me out.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he growls out. It takes him all of two and a half seconds to register Grace, and the dramatic fuck jerks back like he’s been slapped. “What’s that?”

“I think you meanwhois this. And this is my daughter.” I don’t know why I introduce her like that. Maybe because I know deep in my bones that if I don’t make a strong claim to her right here, right now in front of my dad, he’ll find a way to ruin it. By trying to run them off again or tearing them both down to prove a point. Besides, when the word comes out, it feels unbelievably right.

The look on his face makes me almost want to laugh. It’s half shocked, half disgusted, and one hundred percent pissed off. Probably because I was able to surprise him when he usually has a good grip on my life and who is in it.

“Yourdaughter?” he blusters. “Which bitch did you knock up? I thought I raised you better than to let yourself get trapped. She better know she’s not getting a penny.”

There are so many things wrong with what he said, but I cover one of Grace’s ears and push the other in my chest to block the noise as I hiss, “Watch your mouth. She’s four, for God’s sake.”

All he does is roll his eyes and try to push in the door. “We need to talk,” he says.

But I kick my leg out and brace it against the door frame, blocking his way in. “No. I’ve got company, and you aren’t welcome.” I’ve never been so disrespectful or so bold with him, but I’m feeling braver and braver each day closer to Becca’s birthday.

His face starts an ugly shade of puce, and I brace myself for the hate-spilled word vomit coming my way, but then I feel a small hand gently placed on my back. “Is everything okay?” Lillian asks me softly, not even bothering to acknowledge my dad, which I know is driving him mad.

I love everything about this woman. “Everything’s fine. Will you grab her for a second?” I ask and hand Grace over to hermom. Lillian gives me one last searching look to make sure I’m okay.

I nod.

Finally, she turns to my dad and gives him an unimpressed once-over before walking back to the kitchen. I stare at my two girls long enough to see Lillian coax some medicine into Grace before turning back to my dad.

Ahhh. I raise a brow at him and wait. It’s clear by his expression that he’s put two and two together and recognizes Lillian from years ago. “So she shows up after four years with a bastard child and you forget all your common sense?”

“Careful,” I warn him. He can say any awful thing he wants to about me. But not about Grace. Not about Lillian.

He laughs. “I think it's you who needs to be careful, boy. Because this,” he lifts an irreverent hand and gestures behind me, “playing house—it’s going to get old. You’re going to realize what a drain kids are. Financially, emotionally. You’re going to miss your old life. Not being single, no. Because you can still fuck whoever you want, I suppose. But you’ll miss the freedom. Everything becomes about them. If you take two seconds to open your eyes, you’ll see that.” He looks me up and down with an infuriating smirk. “Then again, maybe you like playing house. You always did have a soft spot for pussy. Pathetic, really.”

I wait for a second. “Oh, you’re done? Good. Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got to get back to my bastard child and ball and chain.” I go to shut the door in his face and then stop. For some reason, I have this itch to scratch; this need to get something off my chest after all these years. “My whole life you’ve made me feel like a failure, like less of a man, for loving my sister and treating women with respect. I won’t have your toxicity around my family. You’re no longer welcome here. Not in my life, or theirs, or Becca’s. So stay away. For all I care, youcan go to hell.” I shut the door before I can get burned by the steam coming out of his ears.

I turn around to find Lillian alone, Grace nowhere to be found, and leaning against the kitchen island. Her face is blank, completely unreadable. Blood starts to thrum in my ears, nerves assault me, and I adopt a loose posture, hands by my side so I don’t seem as fucking on edge as I feel.

This is the first time she’s seen who my father is. Sure, she likely has an idea because I’ve told her they’re the reason I ended things four years ago. But hearing about it and seeing it firsthand are two totally different things.

I’m stuck between being completely mortified—that is the man who raised me—and nervous that she’s going to see me for the baggage I really am and leave for good this time.

We stand there staring at each other for what feels like an eternity before I break. “Say something. Please?”

Still with that unreadable, nerve-wracking face. She walks up to me slowly before stopping a healthy distance away. Right out of arm's reach.

Fuck.

I try to prepare myself for anything. For the accusations and hate. She looks me square on, with those big blue eyes that have a way of tying my tongue and paralyzing me, and asks in a whispered voice, “Your family?”

My heart rate skyrockets at the vulnerability of this moment. The truth in the words. “My family. You okay with that?”

Please be okay with that.

Twenty more seconds of complete silence as she stares at me with the insufferably unreadable face before I spot the tiniest tilt of her lips. “Yeah. I’m okay with that.”

After Lil stoppedmy heart and then started it again, we went to check on Grace. She was right where her mom left her, playing on Lil’s phone in her room.

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