Page 19 of Alec’s Dream

“Right. You adore my daughter, it’s just her dad you don’t like.”

“I like you just fine.”

“Are you back to lying?”

Was he for real? In all my life, I’d never met anyone, man or woman, who was blunt to the point of rude.

“Are you being serious?”

“Very.”

“Okay…well…honestly…” Yeah, I had nothing to say so I was stammering trying to come up with words.

“Come to Joss’s party,” he pushed.

“No way. I think I’ve had enough of your truth bombs.”

“Truth bombs?”

“Yeah, you know, when you just blurt out the truth about my shitty parenting without a care if what you’re saying is gonna hurt my feelings.”

Oh boy, that was the wrong thing to say. Fire was sparking in his eyes again and this time it was arcing in my direction.

“Jesus, Macy. I never said you were a shitty parent.”

“No? So I’m just a mother who teaches her kids to eat shit.”

Alec’s jaw clenched, and through the clench he ground out words that once again hurt.

“Fucking hell. I see you’re used to the men in your life being lying sacks of shit. A dose of honesty has you twisting shit in your head that’s turned me into the bad guy. I didn’t say you were a bad mom. As a matter of fact, I said you were the only good parent your kids have. But the fact remains—if you continue to be your ex-fucktard’s punching bag, you’ll teach them that it is okay for a man to treat a woman like dirt. You’re teaching Rory that it’s okay for a man to shit all over her and she should take it—with a smile. And you’re teaching your son to be that man. The kind of man that would harm a good woman. You are the only example they have. You, Macy. And if you can’t handle that truth bomb, I don’t know what the fuck to tell you.”

With that, Alec turned on his heel and headed for the door. Okay, so he didn’t turn on his heel—he stomped to the door, opened it, then slammed it shut, leaving me in my living room broken.

Shattered.

I wanted to live in denial.

I wanted to shut his words out and pretend I hadn’t heard them. But now that I had, they kept playing over and over.

What the hell had I done? I would be murderous if Rory was with a man that treated her like Doug treated me. And my sweet, little man Caleb. I would die a thousand deaths if he grew up thinking he could treat his wife like Doug had treated me.

When had I turned into such a failure?

“What happened to your knuckles?” my dad asked the second we were alone in the kitchen.

I’d gone to my parents’ house to pick up the kids and I knew my dad had spotted my swollen knuckles as soon as I walked in the front door. But he was a good dad, a good man; he’d never ask in front of my kids. He’d find a quiet moment to ask, which he had now and I needed to fess up.

“Doug showed up at eleven just like he said he would.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, my father’s body went tight.

It must be noted my dad hated Doug only a smidgen less than I did. He begged me not to marry Doug. Pleaded with me, actually. Then he even tried to forbid me, but I was an adult and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop me. Once he figured out I was hell-bent on ruining my life, he made sure to stick close. He stopped telling me not to marry Doug and instead was my champion. He listened to me cry. He listened to me rage. And he stood by me until the bitter end, hating every second.

I’d put my family through hell. I was a good girl. Always was. Got good grades, worked hard, never gave them any lip, I simply loved the wrong man.

And that love was blinding.

“Did he—”