Page 316 of Not Over You

Finally, it all makes sense.

The vital piece of the puzzle that has eluded me since my sister’s wedding slots into place. Ashleigh's physical pain, her secrets, the adorable ballet slippers, the reason she’s angry with me. She’d been in an accident and—oh, God!

I needed you Sean and you wouldn't answer the phone.

No!

“You weren’t supposed to tell him!” Stephi shrieks climbing out of the booth. She pushes Ryder with all her might and he stumbles back a step. “Ashleigh wanted to tell him!”

“You knew about this?” I glare at Stephi.

“Ashleigh said she wanted to be the one to tell you because it was bad.”

“How bad?” Stephi’s features go blank. A hole opens in my stomach. It’s too bad to tell Stephi… I turn to Anna. She’s a doctor. “How bad?”

“I only know what I read in the paper this morning,” she replies. But that’s code for real bad. Bad enough to protect Stephi from it.

I snatch at the newspaper and scan the front-page article. She was taken to the hospital for an assessment, where she collapsed and had fallen down some stairs.

The doctors are unsure if the subarachnoid brain hemorrhage was a result of the initial fall off the cliff, or the second one, but she was rushed into emergency surgery. The surgery was complicated by malignant hypothermia, an unknown allergy to general anesthesia, and she was in a coma for three months.

She woke up paralyzed from the waist down following a broken vertebra which required twelve months of physical therapy to learn to walk again. She returned to the states to appear on the Baker’s Dozen reunion.

“It’s a lie!” I slam the newspaper into Ryder’s chest. “Tell me it’s a fucking lie!”

Ryder stumbles back at the force of the blow, clutching the newspaper at his chest. “You don’t know?” He stares at me for a long moment. “No one told you? She didn’t tell you?”

The creases deepen in his brow. The charcoal of his eyes turns almost completely black. The muscle works in his jaw as the rage sweeps through his features. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Ryder explodes. “They almost switched off her life support and you didn’t know!”

What?

A high-pitched shriek pulls me from my showdown with Ryder. The color drains from Stephi’s face. Her silver eyes turn a pale gray with fear. That’s why Stephi doesn’t know. My own shock is no longer a priority as I grab her shoulders and turn her to face me. “It’s okay Stephi. Ashleigh’s fine,” I promise her. “We saw her in Las Vegas, remember? And she was fine.”

“No, Dad.” Stephi shakes her head as she pulls away from me. “Ashleigh isn’t fine.” Tears fill her eyes and she runs for the door. “And it’s my fault!”

“Stephi!” I attempt to make swift work of the crowded exit as I chase after her. I mean, she makes it look easy, but I’m much bigger and taller than a slight young teen and the other patrons aren’t listening to my gruff instructions to get out my way. I run out into the street. “Stephi wait!”

Outside the coffee house, Ryder hands the takeout coffee to me. “She’s heading to Ashleigh’s apartment.”

I glance over the street and Stephi is already battling with the paparazzi. Question after question being slung at her as she pushes past them. I cross the road and dodge vehicles as I cut between them to shorten my route. As I approach, I hear a few questions.

Did she know Krystal Valentina lived in this building? Yeah.

How long had she known Krystal lived here? My whole life.

Stephi finally reaches the door, and the doorman opens it for her. The portly old gentleman who’d worked there for as long as Ashleigh had owned an apartment here, greets Stephi. “Hello, Miss Anderson.”

A familiar feline purr, one that had roused my blood and hormones in the past shouts above the rest. “Anderson? You must be Stephanie; your dad works for me. How well do you know Krystal Valentina?”

My daughter spins on the blonde knockout. I’ve seen that twinkle in Stephi’s eyes. Back in Las Vegas when she’d floored me with that vicious little tongue of hers. “Stephi! No!” I yell.

“Well considering she’s my stepmom, I’d say pretty damn well.” The entire crowd silences. Candice’s gaze jumps over to where I stand as if she’s looking for confirmation of the sources identity before returning to Stephanie, who just says, “So why don’t you fuck off and leave me alone!”

CHAPTER 21

ASHLEIGH

There’s a pounding on my apartment door. A familiar young voice yells at me to open it and the second I do, Stephi flings her arms around my waist.

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