In that moment, I wanted to fucking kill him.
She must’ve sensed how worked up I was getting, because she reached for my arm and said, “Oh honey, this was a long, long time ago. I knew about it, and we’ve worked through it. But it was important for you to know. We always prided ourselves on honesty with you boys, and we didn’t want this to be a missing piece of the puzzle.”
Confusion had to be written across my face in bold, capital letters. “What do you mean, amissing piece of the puzzle?” I snapped. “What am I missing here—other than the fact that my father cheated on my mother?”
They glanced at each other, exchanging some silent understanding. My eyes pinged back and forth between them. My mother drew in a deep breath. “It was a very long time ago, Asher. We’ve done the work to move forward from this, okay? But we received a surprise call last night—one neither of us were expecting to get.”
I shook my head, frustration already setting in. “Just cut to the chase here.”
My father spoke flatly. “I have a daughter.”
The silence that followed was deafening. I couldn’t even compute what he was saying. My heart was sore, but like the physical pain I’d been living with lately. This was different. This was a deep-seated pain of betrayal—betrayal toward my mother, toward my brother and me. It was too much at this very moment.
“Are you okay?” my mother asked softly, reaching for my hand.
I lifted my eyes to hers. “Are you?” The words came out so quietly I wasn’t even sure they’d been heard.
Her lips pressed together, her eyes answering me before her mouth even could. She was hurting—clearly—but as always, she was more concerned about everyone else around her. I couldn’t keep looking at her as her tears welled in the corners of her eyes.
I shook my head and turned to my father. “So what now? Why now?”
He couldn’t even look at me. The shame was written all over him, front and centre again. Good. He deserved misery for what he’d done to her. He’d never been good enough for her—that much had always been true. I never fully understood how they’d ever lasted as long as they had. My mother has always been sunshine and warmth. He’d always carried a chip on his shoulder, chasing perfection like anything less wasn’t worth his time.
“I, uh, I have to accept responsibility for all of this,” he said carefully. “We’ll proceed however your mother feels is best for our family and lives. But, the fact of the matter is, I have a daughter—and she needs me now.”
I slammed my hands down on the table without any pause. “Oh yeah?” I shouted. “Just like I need you, and you’re fucking there for me?”
“Don’t you carry that tone with me, Asher!” he barked back.
Rage spilled out of me faster than I could contain it. My heart was racing off-beat, like a shaky bike skidding on a slick pavement. A wave of cold sweats washed over me.
“Nothing really changes,” my mother said gently, as if that might calm me. “You just have a half-sister, and she may or may not be moving in here.”
I stared at her, dazed, letting out a hollow chuckle. It wasn’t funny—it waschaos. “Why would she move in? Where’s his ex-lover?” I quipped.
My father shot me a sharp look in return.
My mother, ever the peacekeeper, offered another sympathetic look. “She’s…she’s no longer with us. She passed away this week, leaving Mila behind, unfortunately. That’s her name, by the way.”
Guilt hit me instantly. Her mother had died. Jesus. I couldn’t imagine that kind of loss. And by the sound of it, she hadn’t even had a father—considering mine was only just learning she existed. Now she was uprooting her entire life to come here.
A saddened part of me sat with this. If I lost my mother and was left with him, I knew it would definitely be a loss I wouldn’t be able to handle.
“That’s really awful,” I finally offered. And I meant it.
My mother nodded along with me. “Yeah. it is.”
After a few moments of silence, I spoke again, “I think I’m going to go up to my room.”
I didn’t want to sit there with my father and the choices that had blindsided all of us. He was unbelievable—always acting self-righteous, always above everything and everyone. Yet, here he was, having fucked things up worse than any of us ever had.
They both nodded, surprisingly respectful of my need for space.
I went upstairs without breakfast, no longer feeling the hunger pangs. The day already felt heavier than I could handle. Between Lennon snipping at me, my friends drifting away, and my parents dropping this bomb on me, I didn’t have much left in the tank.
Once inside my room, I reached for my phone, planning to head out—maybe take a walk, clear my head. As soon as I touched it, the screen lit up with a missed text. I assumed it was one of the guys and went to slip it into my pocket, but froze when I saw the name.
Lennon.
