Page 81 of Big Daddy

Panic scorches up my throat, acid stinging the back of my tongue as my eyes fill with tears of hurt. “What? We’re not going home together?”

“I’m not going home.” He turns to the other side of the table, offering a congratulations and handshake to both Lance and Augustus. “Gentlemen,” he says as he moves around the table to give them each a hug. “Congratulations again. I am thrilled. Thank you for sharing.”

Big Daddy is hugging Lance and Aug. That means he can’t be that mad, right?

No. It means he loves his daughter and her partners and his first grandchild is on the way.

I stumble to my feet, knocking over my glass of water but ignoring it. “Please don’t go.”

He kisses Brielle on the cheek, ignoring me. I want to scream at him to look at me but then again, I’ve ignored him in his home all week. I deserve this. I deserve this and more, really. Because he’s right.

I made a big stink about real relationships, then I fucked up.

He’s not going home.

He didn’t say where he’s going or what he’s doing and it doesn’t take Sherlock to assume he’s hurt and angry.

I face my best friend.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, tears coating her cheeks.

I shake my head. “It’s my fault. I should have trusted that our relationship would make it. I should have been strong enough to say that I can’t keep anything from him.”

“I should not have put you in that position, I just wasn’t thinking,” Brielle says, reaching for my hand. “Want me to ride home with you? The driver can take me back.”

I shake my head, looking tearfully across the table at Lance and Aug as a waiter wipes up my mess. Someone else is always cleaning up my messes, and I fucking hate it.

I also hate that I may have just lost the best thing that ever happened to me.

“No,” I tell them, wiping my eyes. “I’d like to be alone.”

Brielle squeezes my hand. “Are you sure? This is my fault and?—”

“No, it’s not. It’s my fault. I pressed your father to take us seriously and he did. I should have, too.”

“You do, though,” Brielle says softly. “You wouldn’t be this upset if you didn’t.”

I nod. “Nothing changes the fact that I fucked up.” I look at his daughter, my best friend, one of the most important peoplein my life. I swallow hard, gathering courage to ask what I need to ask. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

I don’t miss the way her eyes fall to her lap first before they come back to mine. “I really don’t know. Trust is a big thing for my father but… I can talk to him.”

I shake my head. “It’s okay. You don’t need to do that.” I look over at my friend’s two partners and smile with as much gusto as I can muster. “Thank you for dinner and I’m sorry that we ruined your announcement. I’m so happy for all of you, truly.”

Augustus smiles. “We know you are.”

Lance smiles, too, except his is more rigid than Aug’s. “It takes time to work out the kinks. This is just… a kink. You two will work it out.”

I blink at Lance, wise and thoughtful, yet I’ve never heard him speak more than a few words at once. “I hope so,” I tell him before giving my final goodbyes and leaving the restaurant.

Outside, I find the town car on the curb and climb in. With the partition still down, I tell the driver to take me home, then I slowly and carefully raise it before sobbing madly into my hands.

I cry until I’m home, and once inside, I cry there, too. I cry in bed with my knees to my chest, sucking up all his scents from his pillow, wondering how I could be so foolish, how I could think a man like Big Daddy would ever stand for hypocrisy and the silent treatment.

I hate feeling small, but tonight, in my California King, with my knees to my chest and my nose a running mess, I’ve never felt tinier.

chapter twenty-seven

quincey

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