Page 110
Story: Love Complicated
“Oh, come on.” Aly pushes back on my shoulders. “You asked me to dance. Stop biting me.”
“I only asked you to dance so I wouldn’t have Charlotte glaring at me.” I nod over her shoulder to the table in the center of the room.
Aly glances toward the table where Charlotte’s sitting beside my mother, then back to me. “She’s confused.”
“Do his parents know you’re getting a divorce?”
“I’m sure they know, but it’s not like they see the boys that often. They didn’t even come to their birthday party.”
“I’m not surprised.” I gesture with a nod to the stage. “I could grab the microphone from the band and let everyone know you’re divorcing the cheating asshole?”
“Uh-huh.” She shakes her head, smiling. “Though I’d love to see everyone’s reaction, behave.”
“What if I don’t want to? Did you bring your van?” I waggle my eyebrows toward the door. “Maybe Frank needs another lesson?”
She grips the back of my neck, yanking at my hair. It doesn’t discourage me. Now I’m really thinking about taking her to the van. “Nope. Rode with Henry.”
A throat clears, and I swing around, and I’m met with dark eyes that match mine.
A man I’d rather die than to be around.
Brooks Jacob.
He looks to Aly, then me, a glass of amber-colored whiskey in hand. “Mind if I dance with my daughter-in-law?”
Yeah, I fucking mind.My jaw tightens, and it’s everything I can do not to reach out and grab his goddamn neck and shove him against an ice sculpture. “I do mind.”
“Is that any way to treat your dad, Ridge?” he asks, raising the glass to his lips.
I laugh, but it’s not one of amusement. “My dad died.”
Aly glances between the two of us, her body stiffens, and she worms herself closer to me. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her tighter, no longer moving to the music.
He shifts his weight, his other hand finding residence in his pocket. “I just want to dance with Alyson.”
I hold my ground, my grip on my girl tightening. He won’t take her from me. Not this time. “No.”
There’s pressure against my hand, harder. Aly’s gripping it. “Ridge, it’s fine.”
I shake my head. He lies. He doesn’t want to dance with her. He wants to tell her lies, make her believe them. My eyes find hers, pleading. “I don’t want him touching you.”
Brooks downs his glass and sets it on a nearby table. He sways, and I know now why he approached us. He’s drunk, like the night he hit me. The night I left. “You’re awfully protective of someone who still technically belongs to your brother.”
My lids fall shut, my nostrils flare. “She wasneverhis,” I breathe. “Like I was never yours. Blood or not, you will never be my father, Brooks.”
Do you notice his reaction? He wants to hit me, but he doesn’t. His eyes shift to Aly, waiting for her to be upset with me for not telling her the truth.
Aly’s gaze turns to mine, and I want to curl against her, lose myself in her hold. Her steady features falter, a sympathetic expression is one I don’t want. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. I don’t know what else to tell her. Do you see the way she’s staring at me? Like I’ve kept a truth from her. My eyes meet hers, and my vision blurs. I inhale shakily as I breathe through my nose and press my lips shut tight against this feeling that tears through me like a tornado of lies, destroying everything in its path.
Brooks steps forward, his jaw is tense, steady breaths, trying to withhold his anger toward me but failing. “You didn’t tell her?”
My fists clench, ready to shove him away from me. “Why would I? You’re nothing but a lying piece of shit.”
I sense another lingering glance, another judgmental pair of eyes, their burn unmistakable. She hasn’t lost her ability to make me uncomfortable and undeniably unwelcomed. She reaches for my arm. I fling it away. “Ridge,” Madalyn warns. “Don’t cause a scene.”
Have you ever felt your life shake? Have you ever been hit with an image to the point where everything around you becomes fuzzy and shaken? Your lungs feel tight, and for a brief second, you can’t do anything. You are unable to move, unable to think, unable to even react. I have. I experienced something I never thought I would experience.
“I only asked you to dance so I wouldn’t have Charlotte glaring at me.” I nod over her shoulder to the table in the center of the room.
Aly glances toward the table where Charlotte’s sitting beside my mother, then back to me. “She’s confused.”
“Do his parents know you’re getting a divorce?”
“I’m sure they know, but it’s not like they see the boys that often. They didn’t even come to their birthday party.”
“I’m not surprised.” I gesture with a nod to the stage. “I could grab the microphone from the band and let everyone know you’re divorcing the cheating asshole?”
“Uh-huh.” She shakes her head, smiling. “Though I’d love to see everyone’s reaction, behave.”
“What if I don’t want to? Did you bring your van?” I waggle my eyebrows toward the door. “Maybe Frank needs another lesson?”
She grips the back of my neck, yanking at my hair. It doesn’t discourage me. Now I’m really thinking about taking her to the van. “Nope. Rode with Henry.”
A throat clears, and I swing around, and I’m met with dark eyes that match mine.
A man I’d rather die than to be around.
Brooks Jacob.
He looks to Aly, then me, a glass of amber-colored whiskey in hand. “Mind if I dance with my daughter-in-law?”
Yeah, I fucking mind.My jaw tightens, and it’s everything I can do not to reach out and grab his goddamn neck and shove him against an ice sculpture. “I do mind.”
“Is that any way to treat your dad, Ridge?” he asks, raising the glass to his lips.
I laugh, but it’s not one of amusement. “My dad died.”
Aly glances between the two of us, her body stiffens, and she worms herself closer to me. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her tighter, no longer moving to the music.
He shifts his weight, his other hand finding residence in his pocket. “I just want to dance with Alyson.”
I hold my ground, my grip on my girl tightening. He won’t take her from me. Not this time. “No.”
There’s pressure against my hand, harder. Aly’s gripping it. “Ridge, it’s fine.”
I shake my head. He lies. He doesn’t want to dance with her. He wants to tell her lies, make her believe them. My eyes find hers, pleading. “I don’t want him touching you.”
Brooks downs his glass and sets it on a nearby table. He sways, and I know now why he approached us. He’s drunk, like the night he hit me. The night I left. “You’re awfully protective of someone who still technically belongs to your brother.”
My lids fall shut, my nostrils flare. “She wasneverhis,” I breathe. “Like I was never yours. Blood or not, you will never be my father, Brooks.”
Do you notice his reaction? He wants to hit me, but he doesn’t. His eyes shift to Aly, waiting for her to be upset with me for not telling her the truth.
Aly’s gaze turns to mine, and I want to curl against her, lose myself in her hold. Her steady features falter, a sympathetic expression is one I don’t want. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. I don’t know what else to tell her. Do you see the way she’s staring at me? Like I’ve kept a truth from her. My eyes meet hers, and my vision blurs. I inhale shakily as I breathe through my nose and press my lips shut tight against this feeling that tears through me like a tornado of lies, destroying everything in its path.
Brooks steps forward, his jaw is tense, steady breaths, trying to withhold his anger toward me but failing. “You didn’t tell her?”
My fists clench, ready to shove him away from me. “Why would I? You’re nothing but a lying piece of shit.”
I sense another lingering glance, another judgmental pair of eyes, their burn unmistakable. She hasn’t lost her ability to make me uncomfortable and undeniably unwelcomed. She reaches for my arm. I fling it away. “Ridge,” Madalyn warns. “Don’t cause a scene.”
Have you ever felt your life shake? Have you ever been hit with an image to the point where everything around you becomes fuzzy and shaken? Your lungs feel tight, and for a brief second, you can’t do anything. You are unable to move, unable to think, unable to even react. I have. I experienced something I never thought I would experience.
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