Page 81 of The Phyre that Burns

“He’s lying, Ethan. I couldn’t care less about Phyre. He?—”

“Let’s go, Kavia,” Ethan said with his teeth clenched before walking away.

“Ethan! Wait!” she called out, rushing behind him.

“That was smooth. I think she might actually like Ethan, but she can’t let go of her obsession with giving you hell. Maybe he’ll get her together,” Kevin said.

“I hope so. My therapist told me not to feed into her antics, and she’ll likely get bored when she sees she has no effect on me.”

“Only time will tell.”

At about 6:25, someone from the band announced that dinner would be served in five minutes and asked everyone to be seated. The ladies had returned from the bathroom, and we took our seats next to them, while they continued to converse. My mother arrived seconds later and immediately noticed her husband was missing.

“Where’s your father?”

“I think he went to the bathroom,” I said, but I actually had no idea where he was.

“He needs to hurry. He’s supposed to give a speech about me before dinner.”

She was doing too damn much, but since it was her birthday, I offered to help.

“I’ll go find him.”

I kissed Ginae’s lips before pushing back from the table and standing. Unsure where the bathrooms were located, I headed toward the vestibule. The area was empty, and the lights were dim. I looked to my left and saw a sign for the men’s restroom and headed in that direction.

“You’ve been promising the same thing for over thirty years, Brad.”

“It’s not that simple, Linda.”

Linda?

“I disagree. Phyre and Phoenix are grown. You have nothing keeping you there unless that’s where you really want to be.”

“I want to be with you, but this is much more complicated than you’ll ever understand.”

“Try explaining these complications toourson. Do you think Brady will understand?”

Son? Brady? What the fuck?

“Brady’s an adult, so stop using him to convince me to rush this process. Linda, please. Can we talk about this tomorrow? It’s almost 6:30, and Clem is probably looking for me.”

My father had been sleeping with the help for more than thirty years, and they had a son together. A part of me wanted to confront them, but now wasn’t the time, so I hurried back into the banquet hall and to my seat.

“Did you find him?” my mother asked.

“Yeah. He’s on his way.”

“Are you okay?” Ginae asked, rubbing her hand over my thigh.

“I’m good. Why do you ask?”

“You’re sweating and breathing heavy. Did you and your father get into it?”

“No. I’ll tell you later.”

For the rest of the night, I couldn’t stop replaying the conversation I’d overheard between my father and his mistress, a woman who had worked for my family since I was a child and someone we thought of as family. My mood shift was triggering for Ginae, so I had to assure her it had nothing to do with her.

“I promise it has nothing to do with you, baby, but I can’t talk about it right now. There are too many ears around, and honestly, I need some time to process,” I told her when she asked again if I was okay.