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She rolls right over him, “Anyway. Real reason I’m here.” She sets her green juice on the counter like she’s planting a flag. “Your Europe run. I’m coming for the first month, I want to spend time with you so I’m inviting myself. Cool?”

Well played. If I could slow-clap without getting slapped, I would. Even if Beau hasn’t asked me to go with him, she has no way to know this. Now, there’s not even an iota of a chance he’ll ask me last minute.

His daughter is the ultimate cock-block and she knows it.

While Beau and his daughter excitedly talk about spending the summer together in Europe, I seethe. Not at him, I knew the drill.

At myself.

The fact I gave up planning my own trip and wasted half of my own summer to play house with Beau makes me sick. We’re amazing lovers. With no future. None. All I am to him is a fuck toy and Billie knows it.

Bile rises fast and hot, and I’ve got maybe four seconds before I puke.

So I don’t waste any time..

I put on the brightest, sunniest voice I own and try to salvage what dignity I have left,

“You know what, I’m going to get out of your hair. Beau, I’ve hijacked your whole morning.” I rinse my glass in his sink like a guest, since a guest is what I am. “Billie, it was so nice to meet you. Have the best time in Rome.” I lift my purse off the counter and grab my phone. “Beau, if I don’t see you before you go on tour, knock ‘em dead.”

Beau’s face twists into something wretched. “Elodie—”

He takes a step, forgetting his daughter for one reckless second. I swerve because if he touches me, I will lose my shit.

“It’s fine. You and Billie need to plan your trip.” I’m already moving for the door, knowing I’m leaving all my things behind and will probably never come back to retrieve them.

Once I’m out of his enormous house, I force myself to walk normally to my car, which is parked on the street.

I make it three blocks before I cry.

Where he can’t see, because I’ve got my pride.

I’ve decided, as of about ninety seconds ago, I’m nobody’s best-kept secret.

Not even his.

fourteen

A Few Minutes Later

What the fuck just happened?

When the front door clicks shut behind Elodie, the sound is the loneliest thing I’ve heard since I lost Yolanda.

I stand by the front window, torn. I can’t go after her, because my daughter is watching.

Billie’s behind me and waits until her car drives off. Turns and looks at me. She’s her mother’s daughter and I know before she opens her mouth I’m about to get every inch of what I’ve got coming.

“Dad.” Quiet. Careful. A voice you use on a man standing too near an edge. “How old is she?”

I could lie. I’ve been lying all morning. No reason to stop now. She’s already running the math. I can see her doing it and I’m tired. Sad. Ashamed at how I treated the woman I’m in love with. “Twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two.” Billie closes her eyes. Says the number like it’s something contaminated. “Four years younger than me. What are you thinking, Dad?”

I don’t move a muscle. There’s no good reaction here.

“I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t know what kind of man-whore you were in the nineties. I know the stories, the ones you think I don’t and ones you wish I didn’t. I never cared because you’ve always been a man I was proud to bring to career day.” Her voice cracks, and she hates it. “Mom’s been gone a year and a half and you’re screwing a child in her house. In my house.”

There it is. The one thing I’ve got no defense against. Billie may be right about the house, the timing, Elodie’s age compared to mine.