Page 96 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

Would he still be proud if he knew about Van?

I could be mature and talk to him about it. All of it. I could tell Dad about my time in Florida with Van. And how it all came crashing down because I saw the text Dad sent Van.

How deeply he actually hurt me while he was trying to protect me.

But I won’t tell him. I can’t. At least for now.

I haven’t told anyone what happened the last night in Florida. Not even Morgan. I did tell her Van and I kissed, but not about what else we did.

It’s not healthy keeping such a huge secret, but I need time to process. Which means I’m shoving down all the negativeemotions, letting my insides rumble and riot like an active volcano just waiting to blow. Dad seems to be chalking up any weirdness on my part to the wedding fiasco and then seeing Drew and Becky in Florida. I’d much rather him think that than know the truth.

You know—that Imarriedhis least favorite player.

“I’ll pop in and see you in your new office later,” he says.

“You don’t need to do that. And it’s a cubicle, not an office. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re so excited,” I say, keeping my voice level. “Seeing as how you wanted to keep me away from hockey players for so long.”

Dad shrugs. “You’ll be working with Parker. She’ll keep you in line. And maybe I worried a little too much. I mean, you came back from Florida with Van unscathed.”

Did I though? I stab my toast with a fork.

“And of all the guys on the team …” He shakes his head, and I decide to cut him off before he starts complaining again about Van’s poor performance and attitude to match.

“I’m also surprised you weren’t mad he went with me,” I say innocently. “Seeing how you’re always complaining about him.”

Practically ripping the figurative door off the hinges to give him an opening to tell me that he asked Van to go with me.

No—bribedhim.

“Should we carpool?” Dad asks instead.

Being trapped in a car with my dad and all this awkwardness for a twenty-minute commute? I’d rather be in a car filled with snakes. And the only one who hates snakes more than me is Indiana Jones.

“I'm not sure how my day will look, so I’ll drive myself. Plus, you’ve been staying late,” I remind him.

Like he could forget playoffs start at the end of the week. Last year, he was practically a ghost during this time. I’m honestly looking forward to it now.

“Right. Okay.”

I can tell he’s disappointed, and despite the simmering lava of anger inside me, the tiny part of me used to being daddy’s little girl pinches uncomfortably. But only until I remember what he did.

The pain quickly swallows up the pinch.

“In that case, I’ll head in a little early,” he says. “You’ll find me if you need anything?”

Nope, I think.

“Yep,” I say.

Still, he hesitates at the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at work.”

Hopefully not. But I force another clenched-jaw smile and wave goodbye. Then he's gone. Leaving me alone to finish getting ready for my first day of a job I’m excited about.

So long as I can avoid my husband.

“I’m so excited you’re here,” Parker squeals.

An actual squeal. Accompanied by a boa constrictor hug, which is followed by a full body shake she gives me with both her hands wrapped around my upper arms.

---