Second Chance Boyfriend

aches and my eyes sting, when I finally throw back my head and stare up at the ceiling.
    My mom hates me and I hate her. I have to reconcile that fact and come to terms with it. I need to protect Owen from her too. I should probably get serious about finding another apartment because I wouldn’t put it past Mom to pull some stunt and somehow screw us out of living here.
    There’s a lot to do, but what else is new? I take care of everything and everyone. It doesn’t even occur to me I could’ve asked for help from Drew until this very moment. One text message, one simple word and he would’ve dropped everything and come running to my rescue.
    Wouldn’t he?
    How I hate that I doubt him even a little bit.
     
    Drew
     
    I’m in the midst of planning a special night for Fable when I get the call from the one person I dread talking to more than any other. I’m so caught up in searching for the right place to take Fable to dinner tonight, I don’t bother checking who’s on the other end when I pick up my cell and answer with a distracted hello.
    “Andrew.” Fuck me sideways. The sound of Adele’s voice sends icy shivers down my spine. “I can’t believe you answered.”
    “It was a mistake, trust me.” I pull the phone away from my ear, ready to end the call, but I can hear her frantically saying my name, begging me not to hang up.
    Like an idiot, I bring the phone back to my ear, silently waiting for her explanation.
    What the hell could she have to say to me? Why am I giving her a chance to explain anything? Am I doing it for my dad? Because I sure as hell have no reason to talk to her ever again. Not after that bomb she dropped on me the day Fable and I left Carmel.
    Vanessa’s not your sister, Andrew. She’s your daughter.
    I close my eyes against the memory. How downright excited Adele had sounded when she made that outrageous declaration. I’ve talked about Vanessa with Dr. Harris. She knows the circumstances that surround Vanessa’s death, my guilt over leaving her alone. How it’s my fault she’s dead. How my affair with my stepmom might’ve resulted in the birth of Vanessa. My sister, my daughter… Hell, I still don’t know what to believe.
    There’s also that underlying fear Adele will confess all to my dad and he’ll hate me for what I’ve done. The threat of divorce makes people do crazy things to keep their marriage together. It also makes people do outrageous things to break up their marriage for good.
    Adele is a loose cannon. I’m scared to death she’ll reveal all my secrets and I’ll look like the world’s worst son. The very last thing I want to do is disappoint my dad.
    Too late for that. I’ve disappointed him countless times and most of the stuff I’ve done, he doesn’t know about.
    “Your father wants to leave me,” she finally says.
    I crack open my eyes, stare blearily at the blurred laptop screen in front of me. “I thought you two already kissed and made up.”
    “I know he went to see you this weekend. The question I have is why? It’s not like you two are close anymore. What did you promise to tell him? Did you talk about me? What did you say?” She sounds panicked—and completely self-absorbed.
    Typical.
    “We hardly talked about you at all, not beyond him explaining briefly that the two of you were having trouble and he’s ready to file for divorce.” I can’t believe I’m explaining myself to her but as sick as it sounds, we’re in this secret together. Both of us have plenty to lose if it’s revealed.
    “You’re lying. You’re trying to convince him to leave me and I won’t allow it, Andrew. You’re just as guilty in this situation between us as I am. I refuse to take the fall for it.” Her voice is low, full of icy-cold venom.
    “His reasoning for leaving you has nothing to do with…us.” I choke the last word out. There was never any us with me and Adele. More like her dragging me under and me helpless to fight it. “It has to do with you screwing around with some golf pro.”
    She sucks in a harsh breath. Guilty. “Is that what he told you?”
    “I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you.” Damn it, why am I still talking to this bitch? “I’m hanging up now. Don’t bother calling me again.”
    Before she can get another word out, I end the call, throwing the phone across the room so it hits the wall and bounces on the carpet with a satisfying thud.
    But I’m still not satisfied. I’m mad. At myself for