Page 81 of Playing Games

“What?” His smile grows wider, his arms opening in kind. “It’s not good to see me?”

“It’s good to see you, Dad,” I comment and lean down to embrace him in a hug, laughing a little at how important it is for him to get confirmation now, given how our relationship began. It wasn’t until I was prepubescent that he started to make an effort, when he realized taking care of a child financially was important but unexclusive. Emotional well-being is half the battle in childhood health.

To this day, I credit much of his maturation in our current relationship to my stepmom Charlotte.

Charlotte is warm and kind, and ironically enough, she used to be my uncle Remy’s fiancée many,manyyears ago—a long chapter in a different book and an entire story of its own, let me tell you.

Now, she’s an accepted and welcome part of my life, and before she and my dad moved to Germany for a year, it wasn’t uncommon for her to meet me for lunch near campus every two weeks or so. Some who know the whole story think it’s weird.

But it’s all par for the course, in my opinion. The path to a father-daughter relationship hasn’t necessarily been smooth or without complications, but we’re in a good place now.

It took a lot of years for him to gain both my mom’s and Wes’s trust, but I can’t blame them for that either.

I know his status in my life always used to cause my mom a lot of stress. She felt I deserved better, that I deserved an active father figure, but I always felt like I had everything I needed with her. Honestly, I probably don’t tell her enough how good of a mother she is.

I really need to do better. I’m trying to do better. But things like that—emotions—are not easy for someone like me.

“So, Lex, tell me, how are you doing?” my dad asks as I head over to the leather sofa in the corner of his office and sit down.

“I’m good.”

“And your doctoral dissertation?”

“Already finished.”

“Oh man.” His laugh is hearty, but there’s also a sentiment of pride mixed into each chuckle that leaves his lungs. “I should’ve known you’d have it done well ahead of the end-of-summer deadline. And has my brilliant daughter decided on a career path?” His smile turns knowing. “Because I know a certain profession that could use a mind like yours.”

“I’m not going to med school, Dad.” I roll my eyes. “Financially speaking, med school would be a step backward. I’d lose money and miss out on opportunities. I already have over ten companies making offers for some of the software and apps I’ve created this past year.”

He smirks. “You going to sell?”

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess if I think one of them is the right fit and will utilize what I’ve created in the way I intended, then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Interesting.” He nods slowly, steepling his hands under his chin. “And outside of school and your career, how’s everything else?”

“What else is there?” I ask with a snort, defaulting to my factory settings for a moment or two.

“I don’t know. New friends?” He pauses, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Boyfriends?”

Immediately, Blake’s face flashes in my mind—his crooked smile, the way he says my name, the way he’s been asking me to stop keeping him a secret. My stomach tightens, and I focus hard on my hands, clasped tightly in my lap, but whatever’s written on my face isn’t lost on my dad.

“Wait…does my daughter have a man in her life?” he asks, leaning forward slightly, his attention sharp and unwavering. His eyes search mine like he’s solving one of his Sunday crossword puzzles, and it feels like the walls of his office are closing in. My shoulders stiffen, and I shift in my seat, trying to shake the mounting pressure.

“No,” I say quickly, but the word feels foreign, like my tongue doesn’t belong to me. It’s not quite a lie, but it’s definitely not the truth, and it sits there like a pebble I can’t swallow.

“Are you sure?” he presses, his curiosity only growing, but just as I start scrambling for an answer, the door swings open. Finn and Scottie come in, their voices cutting through the tension like a lifeline, and my dad’s focus snaps to them.

I release a quiet, tangled breath, sinking back into the couch as relief washes over me. I’m not ready to explain my feelings—I don’t yet understand them fully myself.

“Dr. Raines?” Scottie asks, and my dad stands up from his chair to greet her at the door.

“You must be Scottie,” he says and holds out his hand to shake hers. He does the same with Finn, who currently stands behind Scottie’s wheelchair.

“Finn Hayes,” Finn introduces himself.

“He’s my boyfriend and all-around super support system,” Scottie adds, flashing a smile up at Finn.

“That goes both ways, babe,” he tells her before my dad gestures for them to come inside. Finn eases Scottie’s chair the rest of the way into the office and parks it right in front of his desk.

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