Chapter 6
My father’s face lit up when I entered his study. He immediately ended his call, setting his phone down on the mahogany desk.
“Hey darling, it’s so nice to see you after all this time,” he said, rising from his leather chair. “You look so beautiful.”
He guided me toward the living room, my mother following close behind. The familiar scent of our home–lemon polish and my mother’s signature perfume–washed over me. How many times had I dreamed of this place during those long nights with Hank?
“Come,” Father said, gesturing to the plush sofa. “How has it been?”
I sat down carefully, but couldn’t suppress a wince as pain shot through my abdomen. The stitches pulled tight against my skin, a physical reminder of everything I’d left behind.
Father’s eyes narrowed. He caught the expression but said nothing, though I could see the questions forming behind his eyes.
“I was really surprised when you agreed to the marriage,” he said instead, settling into his armchair across from me. “I thought everything with Hank was going well.”
The mention of his name made something twist inside me. I stared at my hands, suddenly uncertain. What should I say? How much should I reveal? The shame of being so thoroughly deceived burned within me.
But then clarity came. If I was going to forget that life, I needed to excise it completely. No regrets. No remorse. Nothing left behind to fester.
“Everything with Hank was a lie,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “He’s been cheating on me with Lola for years.”
My mother gasped softly.
I didn’t stop. Like lancing a wound, I let everything pour out–the betrayal at Disneyland, Hank abandoning me in the rain for Lola, being stabbed and spending ten days in the hospital while he never even noticed I was gone.
With each revelation, my father’s expression darkened. His knuckles turned white where he gripped the armrest. My mother moved to sit beside me, tears streaming down her face as she took my hand in hers.
“That bastard,” Father growled when I finished. His voice was low, dangerous. “I’ll call my friends. We’ll destroy him, erase his entire existence. Just say the word, Monica.”
The old me would have been horrified at the suggestion. The old me would have made excuses for Hank, would have blamed herself. But that woman died in the hospital during those ten lonely days.
A tear escaped despite my efforts to hold it back. I was moved by my father’s fierce. protectiveness, but I shook my head.
‘Thank you, Father, but no. I have to do this myself, win this myself.” I straightened my shoulders. “If I don’t, I’ll always be the daughter who got helped by her father and not the one who stood up for herself.”
Chapter 5
2:46 am G DDD
Understanding softened his expression. He rose and pulled me into a gentle hug, mindful of my injury.
“No matter what happens from now on, you must tell me,” he said into my hair. “You can always come home if you have any trouble. Always.”
“Thank you, Father.” I pulled back, a genuine smile forming on my lips for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’ll take advantage of that already.”
He chuckled, as did my mother. “What is it?”
“Even though I agreed to marry, I still don’t know who my husband is going to be,” I admitted.” just don’t know who it is. I agreed out of impulse that day.”
Father’s expression shifted to concern. “Ah. If that’s the case, we can cancel the wedding. I don’t want you throwing your life away again for another man.” He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Even though, from what I know about him, he’s an amazing guy.”
That caught my attention. My father, Bill Wells, was not a man easily impressed. His standards were impossibly high, especially when it came to men interested in his daughter.
“No, no,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to cancel anything, not after all of this. It’s better to get married now, after everything that happened.” I looked down at my hands, surprised by my own certainty. “Who knows, I might fall in love with him after being with him for some time.”
Father nodded slowly. “You might.”
‘Can I see him?” I asked. “Do you have a photo?”
He reached for the diary on the coffee table, flipping through it until he found what he was ooking for. He pulled out a photograph and handed it to me.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the image. Those intense eyes. That strong jawline. The same face that had hovered over mine as I lay bleeding on the pavement.
t was him. The man who had saved me. Twice.
Jules.
