Page 100 of Dream Girl Drama

Sig’s chest dipped with an inhale. “They bribed you.”

“And I took it. I’m sorry, but I took it. I left.”

“So you didn’t steal anything. It wasgivento you.”

Harvey nodded. “Again, they incorrectly assumed that your mother would return home like an obedient daughter, marry the right man, live the life they were organizing for her. But... she didn’t. I only found out later through mutual friends that she’d given her parents the proverbial finger and left to raise you as a single mother. I was proud of her. And I was ashamed that I’d been the weak one. I regret it every day.”

Sig stood stock-still, absorbing the events that had shaped his young life. He wanted to be angry at these adults for being selfish, rash. But again, he couldn’t help but admire his mother for striking out on her own. Not giving anyone power over her. Hanging on to her free will with both hands, even though it was hard.

“Rosie’s got her pride, that woman. You get that from her.” The lights were dimming in the lobby, signaling that the performance was about to start. Briefly, Harvey looked down at the carpeted floor, then back at Sig. “When you reached out to me eleven years ago, I wanted to tell you everything. The truth. Youdeserved that. I’d signed a nondisclosure in order to receive the funds... but if I’m being totally honest, the guilt was still with me. I thought I could make up for leaving. I’m sorry I allowed the lie to continue, Sig.”

Sig didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

He needed time to sit with the news, the truth.

And he wanted to do all of that with Chloe.

“Does Sofia know you’re not my father?”

Harvey hung his head. “No, but I’ll tell her.”

“Good. Do it soon. I’m not hiding what I have with Chloe anymore,” Sig said, his voice rusted. “I need to be in there when the show starts. Excuse me—”

“I hope we can still... have some kind of relationship. Maybe that’s unrealistic, considering it was tentativebeforeI met Sofia and now—”

“You were going to let me lose Chloe so you wouldn’t have to expose your shame. So you wouldn’t have to admit you’d been lying to me for over a decade.”

Harvey reddened slightly. “What do you want me to say? WhatcanI say?”

“Say you and Sofia won’t get in the way of what I have with Chloe anymore. Believe me, I don’t care if I speak to either of you for the foreseeable future, possibly ever, but Chloe is a better person than me. And a lot more forgiving.”

“I won’t stand in your way.” Perhaps symbolically, Harvey stepped aside, no longer blocking Sig’s path to the will call window. “I’ll do what I can with my wife.”

Those two words, “my wife,” and the possibility of using them in reference to Chloe someday soon, made it impossible for Sig to say anything else. Only move toward the window at a fast clip while the rest of the crowd filed into the auditorium, his heart locked in his throat.

I’m coming, Chlo.

I’m coming.

“GOOD LUCK TONIGHT,”whispered one of the violinists as she passed, getting in position a few yards away, one face among a sea of talented bodies, poised to play their instruments.

“Thank you,” Chloe said softly, going back to looking blindly at her harp.

Static snapped in her fingertips, urging her to touch the strings, but the crushing weight on her chest kept both arms stationary at her side. She’d play. She’d get through this. He wouldn’t be there, but she’d live through the night and that was the best she could hope for.

On the other side of the velvet curtain, voices blended together and silenced, followed by a pleasant voice introducing the symphony—and then the curtain was gone and Chloe moved on autopilot, pushing her posture one notch higher into perfection, fingers lifting to the strings, head turning to face the conductor. To wait for the cues that would guide them all through the performance, though they knew it by heart.

She’d been reckless, given her fragile mental state, to leave that ticket at will call for Sig. Her heart wouldn’t let her do anything different, however. She’d been compelled by some deep reserve of hope that hadn’t quite been erased yet. And now, despite the fact that she’d been told not to look out at the audience, to never take her attention off the instrument and her conductor, Chloe’s gaze ticked left, seeking out the seat she’d reserved.

Just in case.

Just...

Sig slid into the open spot.

Chloe’s heart barreled up into her throat, beating, beating.

Bright splotches of light temporarily blinded her. There hewas. He’d come. A broad-shouldered badass among regular citizens. He was wearing jeans and a Bearcats hoodie and for some reason that made her want to burst into noisy, appreciative tears. Sig looked at her hard, his chest inflating, releasing, before cupping a hand over his mouth, like he was overcome.

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