Page 113 of The Bridges I've Burned

I let out a sigh, tracing the edge of the tattoo that covered his collarbone. “He’s almost worse,” I said.

“Has he—” I could see his eyes harden.

“No.” My voice softened as I placed a hand on his chest. “Nothing like that. He just—” I let out a deep breath. “My dad had an affair before I was born. Or maybe it was a one-night stand—I’m not sure about the details. But he cheated. I was the result.”

“Your biological mom?”

I shook my head. “No idea. She dumped me off with my father shortly after I was born and bailed. At this point, my mom—stepmom? I have a hard time now, trying to figure out what to call her.”

“It’s okay.” He pulled me to his chest.

“Anyway, at this point, they could have done a lot of things—sane things, like divorce, or, hell, put me up for adoption—and gave me a fighting chance, but instead, they stayed together. Daniel was only a year old, so they moved to another town, started over, and no one was the wiser.”

“Except them.”

I nodded. “My mother has never forgotten. And she’s never forgiven him. She has been using me as a way to punish him ever since.”

“When did you find out?” he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

“Right after Daniel died,” I said. “In one of her grief rants, she told me she’d lost her only child, and when I questioned what she meant?—”

“I’m so sorry, Elena.”

I pulled back so I could look up at him. “It actually made a lot of sense,” I told him. “When she finally explained everything, it hurt, learning the truth, but it also answered a lot of my questions. Why I was never enough. Why I always came last.”

He tilted my chin up, and my heart melted. “You’re more than good enough.”

“That’s the first time she’s called me in over a year, and it was just to make sure I’d show up and make her look good.”

“I could come with you,” Zander offered.

“Oh God, she’d lose her shit,” I joked, but my belly fluttered at the idea of having him with me.

“What? Why?” That pierced brow rose as he grinned. “I’m a hit with parents. Look at me.”

He held out his arms wide, reminding me of that day in the studio when he’d let me do whatever I wanted with him.

“She’d take one look at those tattoos, probably cover herself in the sign of the cross, and promptly disown me.” I laughed. “Wait, that actually might work. Shit, we should totally get married.”

“I thought we already were,” he challenged. “Picked out a dress and everything.”

“I don’t know,” I teased. “I might need some more convincing.”

He grabbed me at the waist and threw me over his shoulder, intent on a shower and doing just that.

“Okay, so I might have gone a little overboard,” Lani warned me.

I’d barely stepped foot into the grand lobby of Windows Hotel and Resort when she ran up to meet me, hugging the shit out of me in a red maxi dress that made her look fucking lethal.

Seriously, could she dial it down a notch or two?

The worst part was, I knew she really wasn’t even really trying. She was that kind of pretty with bronze skin and long, thick brown hair that fell down her back like she’d been at the salon all morning, but really, she’d probably just let it air-dry while she fed her toddler.

And to top it off, she was incredibly sweet. Ugh.

“How overboard are we talking?” I asked.

We hadn’t exactly talked price when I set this up because in all fairness, I wasn’t strapped for cash, and how much could one measly bachelorette party cost?

---