Page 16 of Bonus Daddy
But after the pain that had radiated from her in the yoga studio, the pain that had come with being on her own, with the knowledge that her ex was choosing not to have a relationship with his kids, the temptation to keep digging was overwhelming.
And the more I dug, the less I liked what I found.
Images of him at society functions, looking like a smug old prick with a series of duck-lipped girls on his arm. Most of whom looked young enough to be his daughters.
My stomach churned at those images.
The charity golf tournament images and galas for cancer research made me want to vomit. Because while he smiled and laughed like he didn’t have a care in the world, his ex-wife and daughters were here, struggling to make ends meet.
With a frustrated grunt, I slammed my laptop closed. That fucker was in for a world of hurt.
Dylan and I had been raised by a single parent. I knew the struggles. After our mom passed away, our dad did a damn good job raising us, but even now, her loss haunts me.
It reminds me that every day matters. The people in our lives are gifts, and we never know how long we’ll have them.
And here was this asshole, too busy schmoozing and gallivanting around the world to make time to see his children.
Instead, his only contribution was a monthly check, like they were a debt to be paid off.
I stood, hands balled into fists. I needed to punch something.
Carefully, forcing myself to breathe evenly, I unbuttoned my dress shirt and draped it over the back of my chair. Then I sprinteddown the basement steps and flipped the lights and the fan on. I just needed a few minutes.
Rolling my shoulders, I donned a pair of gloves. I was short on time, so I didn’t bother with hand wraps. Our firm in the city was equipped with a gym, where I worked out most mornings. This building had a spider-infested basement with cinder-block walls, but I made do. I didn’t have time to make it to a local gym with the workload I’d brought to Jersey with me.
I’d been hitting the bag twice a day all week, yet it had done little to quiet the emotions rising up inside me.
When Jess had walked through my office door that first day, something in my chest had cracked wide open. Now, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t close it up again.
I set a timer on my phone and gave myself ten minutes to work out my frustration and anger using jabs and crosses. As I shuffled around to get my heart rate up, I worked through it all in my head.
As a working-class kid in Brooklyn, trouble was easy to find, but I’d discovered boxing early and had poured myself into it to work off some of my teen angst and to keep from falling into the wrong crowd. Dad worked a lot, which meant I was responsible for Dylan often. Between caring for her and studying, I had little free time, but the old boxing gym was a place I could let go and just be a kid for a bit.
With each strike, clarity settled within me.
Reading about Kenneth Mosely had set me off. What a bastard. He’d had it all. Everything. And he’d thrown it away cruelly.
It offended me deep in my bones.
Because fatherhood was a precious gift.
One I’d wanted for a long time.
I’d grown up assuming I’d one day be a loving dad like my own. Then, for most of my adult life, I’d wanted nothing more than a loving marriage and kids.
But at every turn, life got in the way.
During law school and for those first few years after, I spent a lotof time at home, helping Dylan care for Liam after his birth father abandoned them. I was there when he lost his first tooth, and I had the honor of teaching him to ride a bike. It filled me up in the best ways.
That kid was amazing. My sister was amazing. I wouldn’t trade those years for anything.
But they were brutal. Law school, the bar, then the beginning of my career. It took so much out of me.
I loved what I did, and I was proud of the career I’d built. But I was over forty now. I’d built a life, yet I’d missed some of the essentials along the way.
Memories and regrets and what-ifs raced through me as I thought about Jess and her daughters.
I’d ensure Jess was successful in court. But more than that, I wanted her and her daughters to soar, to have everything they’d ever wanted. Then I wanted to rub it in the face of the bastard who’d discarded them.
