Page 98 of Tight Spot

“She wouldn’t have?” His head tilted to the side. He was more contemplative than dismissive. “I was there. For every game of yours in high school. I was there the night you broke your wrist, and I was in the waiting room at urgent care until I heard you were okay. I was there on your collegiate signing day, and I was there when you first took the field at Michigan against Ohio State. The day you were awarded Offensive Player of the Year, I was there, when you wore that dark red or maroon suit.”

Shit. He couldn’t…most of that shit wasn’t televised. Never promoted on social media because it wasn’t as big fifteen years ago as it was now… “Dad…”

“I’ve been there, Dawson. As much as I possibly could, cheering you on proudly but thinking you and Crystal didn’t want me anywhere near you, so I stayed back, only showing up when I thought you’d allow it. And every year, I sent Cecilia the money for new football equipment, for your sports registration in high school. I paid for Crystal’s dance lessons and uniforms. And when you were living with your mom and Daniel, that CEO of whatever, I was the one who sent her an extra twenty-five grand to get you a car. Did the same for Crystal, too.”

“Daniel said it was from him.” One of the few decent men my mom had hooked herself too in a short few years, Daniel had always bought us everything. At least…no. Fuck. “Mom said Daniel bought it.”

My throat clogged, and an irritation pulsed behind my eyes. All this time…

“I always thought you were pissed at me about the affair, and that was why you didn’t want to be around me.”

“Never.” There was venom in his tone, pure seething fury that seeped from his pores and filled the air in the room with his anger. With his honesty.

I hung my head and stared at the floor beneath my bare feet until my vision blurred. “Mom said you told her she could have us because you traveled so much it didn’t make sense for you to have a home where we could stay with you.”

“For ten years, until you were out of college and stopped going back to be with your mom in the summers, I had a three-bedroom apartment no more than ten minutes away from wherever your mom moved to so I’d be close in case you guys ever reached out. In case you changed your mind about seeing me.”

Ten years. Ten goddamn years.

“Fuck.” My chest rattled and heaved and fucking salty drops fell from my eyes. I’d never cried. Couldn’t remember ever doing it, but right then, seeing how serious my dad was, how much he meant it, and how fucking wrong I’d been…

A warm, firm hand landed on my shoulder, and my dad gave me a quick shake. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry your mom was never honest with you, and I’m sorry Crystal never told you. She said you knew and didn’t care.”

“Crystal?” My head snapped up, and I stared into eyes that were identical to mine, complete with the wet sheen of tears. “She knew? For how long?”

Dad removed his hand from my shoulder only to wipe it down his face. With a shrug, he crossed his arms. “It was one of the last times she and I talked.”

Years. That was years ago. At least five when he finally gave up on her and told her not to call him anymore.

“I need a drink.” I walked around my dad, felt the way he turned to watch me, and after I pulled out a bottle of bourbon from my liquor cabinet, twisted. “Want one?”

“Yes. Absolutely yes, I would love to finally sit down and have a drink with you.”

Damn. That burn in my throat started again and crawled right up to the back of my tongue, but this time, I swallowed it down.

I made our drinks and took them to the living room.

We had more to talk about. There was still a reason I didn’t trust women, and he’d only confirmed why to me. My mom was a liar. Crystal too. Both of them played me so hard and used me. It was no wonder I couldn’t trust anyone. Add on to the fact I just figured my dad essentially abandoned me, outside a couple of phone calls a year, well, who wouldn’t be fucked up.

We sipped our drinks. The quiet was tense, and finally, my dad leaned forward and looked me right in the eye. “I shouldn’t have ever told you to focus on your football career and not find a woman. That was my baggage getting in the way of your happiness. I was trying to look out for you, but now knowing especially what Cecilia did, it definitely wasn’t right.”

Fucking hell.

How had a man I barely had a relationship with read me so well?

“Her name’s Hailey,” I told him, and then for some damn reason, I opened my mouth, and all my bullshit spewed out of it.

CHAPTER28

HAILEY

“I’m exhausted, Meredith. Can we do this another night?”

My store was a mess. My hair hadn’t been washed in days. I still hadn’t been able to bring myself to change my sheets to erase the scent of Dawson even though it was most likely only remained in my head and memories.

I’d worn cutoff denim shorts and an old T-shirt I’d ripped and cut into a crop top. Both items of clothing had stains and paint on them, along with the tops of my toes and my Birkenstock sandals because I’d made an absolute mess working on projects that day.

“Any other day, I’d say yes,” she said through the phone. “But not tonight. One drink at Margo’s and if you’re still in a funky funk, I’ll take you home.”

---