Page 94 of The Ruthless and the Strong

“It doesn't matter. A divorce is a long and messy procedure. But that doesn’t mean I’m still with Sam. Max knows all this.”

“Do you really think it’s smart to get involved with another man at this time? A man who is obviously much older than you?” Mom asked.

“Dad’s twelve years older than you,” I said.

“Yes, but when we met, I wasn’t going through something so messy.”

I could feel the anger starting to form in my heart. “Messy? When you met Dad, you were younger than me. Max is only fourteen years older than me. There’s hardly any difference between fourteen and twelve years.”

“Lizzie,” Dad said firmly.

I took a deep breath. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m not even asking for your blessing. I just wanted you to know about the important stuff in my life.”

“And I want to know about your life,” Mom said, her voice getting louder. “I just don’t want to see you make the same mistake again, and with a different man.”

“Mistake? My marriage to Sam wasn’t my mistake. It was yours.”

With that, I moved up the stairs, not wanting to say any more.

I could hear Dad calling out my name, but I ignored them and went up to Henry’s room. His door was partially open and I opened it all the way quietly and looked in.

My little brother and my little boy were lying on their stomachs in front of the big TV screen, racing each other. I opened my mouth, about to tell Hunter we were leaving, when he let out a loud laugh that had me smiling.

“I beat you! Ha. I beat you, Uncle Henry.” Hunter threw his remote on the floor and stood up and started to do a little dance, shaking his butt in front of Henry’s face.

Henry laughed and pulled Hunter into his arms, ruffling his hair. “You sure did. Man, you got good at this game fast.”

Hunter smiled widely and Henry ruffled his hair. “Can we play another match?”

“Of course,” Henry said.

I let out a small sigh. Not that either one of them noticed me, not with the TV blaring, and not with their laughter trying to compete with the TV volume.

I didn’t have the heart to pull Hunter away.

I turned around, intending on going back to my old room that my parents had long ago turned into a guest room, when I caught sight of Dad standing there, his hands in his pockets.

He looked sad.

I hadn’t meant to blow up on them down there.

I had planned to tell them about Max and me, because I knew Hunter would catch on soon enough, and I didn’t want the news to come from him. I was saving myself a future headache, and instead, I ended giving myself one in the present.

He indicated with his head for me to follow him and I nodded.

We moved to my old room.

I looked around. All my posters had been taken down. All those high school memorabilia that showed my teenage personality were put in a box and stored in the attic long before Sam even moved us to California. I was kind of sad, looking at all these blank walls.

I’d even had a poster of Max in his hockey years. He had been good. Good enough to have been recruited to Seattle’s NHL teams.

He gave it up, walked away from the opportunity, and instead focused on his finance career. Though he had success here, I sometimes wondered if he regretted walking away from the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so quickly. I always thought it was because he didn’t want to walk away from Olivia.

“Sit down, a stór,” Dad said, patting to the seat next to him on the twin bed.

I sat down, looking down at my lap. “I’m so—”

He stopped me with one hand raised. I looked at him. “I want to ask you something,” he said.

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