Second Chance Boyfriend(9)

My gut clenches and I feel like I’m going to throw up. He sounds serious. Scary serious. “Like what?”

“Well, I’d rather talk about it when I see you but…I may as well tell you now.” He takes a deep breath and so do I. “Adele and I are getting a divorce.”

I feel like I’ve been smacked upside the head and little birds are tweeting in a circle above me, straight out of a cartoon. Glancing around, I catch sight of a bench and I sit heavily on the edge of it, my backpack knocking against me, making me wince. “What? Why?”

“I’d rather come there and tell you. Are you free this weekend?”

“Sure.” I remember Logan’s party. “Well, I have something to do Saturday night, but I can cancel it.”

“I don’t want to interfere with your plans.” My dad usually doesn’t give a shit about my plans, so his protesting is unnerving. He’s not himself. Is he upset that he’s getting a divorce? Does he view this as a good thing or a bad thing? Of course, I automatically blame Adele for everything.

“You won’t be interfering, Dad. Trust me. It’s just a stupid party.” Dr. Harris is going to be pissed at me, but I don’t care. I need to be here for my dad. Especially if he’s finally going to really end it with Adele.

I shouldn’t be happy. I should feel sorry for him. But this is the right move. She’s a sick bitch and I want her poison out of my life. Out of my dad’s life too. Plus—and this is completely selfish on my part—I don’t want our secret revealed.

I don’t even know if her secret is the truth. And that’s what scares me the most. What’s real, what’s not? I’m not sure anymore.

“How about I’ll come there Friday, stay the night with you and go home Saturday? That way you can do what you need to do Saturday night,” Dad suggests.

“You can stay the entire weekend if you want.” I want him to. I miss him. We used to be close. Before I turned fifteen and my stepmom decided I looked far more interesting than my dad ever did.

You’ve grown up so much, Andrew. You’re so handsome, so big and strong…

Closing my eyes, I shove her flirtatious voice firmly out of my brain.

“Let’s play it by ear,” my dad says.

That’s all I can ask for, so I agree. And when we hang up, I feel a little lighter. My head’s not as cloudy and for once, I’m hopeful.

I clutch that feeling close to me for the rest of the day.





Chapter Three





If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever. – Winnie the Pooh



Drew



My dad shows up Friday around noon and we go to lunch, at one of the popular cafés downtown that’s full of college students and people on their lunch break from the nearby businesses. It’s small and busy and the tables are tiny and round. Our knees bump against each other because we’re both tall, and it feels incredibly awkward. I’m not saying much beyond small talk because he’s the one with the major news.

Scratch that. I have major news, but I’m never going to drop that particular bomb on him now. It might scar him for life. Ruin our relationship forever.

I’m not taking that chance.

Finally, after the waitress brings us our lunch, he finally says something important.

“I filed divorce papers yesterday. Adele will be served sometime next week.”

I lift my head to meet his gaze and find him studying me pointedly. As if he’s got everything all figured out. For a moment, I’m afraid he does. But then he digs his fork into the salad he ordered along with his sandwich and eats. Like what he said really didn’t matter at all.

“Where is she?” I ask after I swallow. I can’t bring myself to say her name.

Fable would like that. If she had a chance, I know she’d scratch that bitch’s eyes out.

“She’s still at the house. I asked her to leave and she refused.” Dad wipes the corner of his mouth with his napkin. “Not quite sure what I’m going to do about that. I can’t kick her out—yet. She really has nowhere to go. But she was the mother of my child.”

Maybe. I swallow hard. “Where will you go?”

He shrugs. “I’m staying at a hotel for the moment. And she’ll trip herself up. I have a plan.”

My appetite leaves me. If this is going to be an ugly divorce and I’m somehow involved, I don’t think I can take it. “What’s your plan?”

His gaze is pointed again, directly aimed at me, and I want to squirm. “She’s having an affair. I know it, I can feel it, but I don’t have proof.”