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“Do you care?” Jesse accuses, and I wish I could pull the bleeding heart from my chest and show him just how fucking broken it is.
I nod. “I do.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you shoved your dick inside another girl, cheater.”
Both of Dia’s fathers gasp in the background.
I was right.
They didn’t know.
Dia didn’t tell them anything, but Jesse was more than happy to throw me under the bus. The bastard knew what he was doing, too. This was his plan all along. His way to guarantee Dia’s parents will never approve of me.
“I didn’t fucking cheat,” I say, despite knowing damn well that I’m wasting my breath. He’s already made up his mind about me.
My crude language seems to upset one of Dia’s dads because he covers her little brother’s ears and shoots a disapproving glance in my direction. Her other dad, the big one—he’s tall and buff—gestures for his husband to go to the other room with a flick of his chin, which he does immediately. In a moment of desperation, I crane my neck and push to my tiptoes, making eye contact with Big Dad. He’s the best chance I got.
“Sir, please, I love your daughter. I just need to see her for five minutes.”
Big Dad maintains the eye contact but doesn’t react. He doesn’t even flinch, unaffected by my plea.
“You have to hear me out.”
“We don’t have to hear shit.” Jesse gets all up in my face. “Except for Dia crying her eyes out through the walls.”
Guilt crushes me.
She was crying all night?
Jesse decides he’s had enough before I can answer. He’s about to slam the door in my face again, but I smack my palm against the door to stop him.
That’s when I see her. I have a clear shot of the staircase from here, allowing me to see my baby going down the stairs with Aveena. They probably heard me yelling and came down to check.
I drink her in quickly. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt and plush pajamas shorts, her curly hair pulled into a messy bun. She looks exhausted. Even then, she’s so fucking beautiful it’s torture. Her face is red and puffy from crying, and I could scream at the realization that I’m responsible for her tears.
I did this.
I hurt her.
She doesn’t see me at first.
But then she does.
And her mouth falls open.
Just like that, my self-control goes out the window.
“Dia!” I push her brother out of the way without blinking. “Dia, please.”
I manage to reach the bottom of the stairs. Only a few steps separate us now. She stares at me for a bit, shock written all over her face. Jesse is by my side within seconds, trying to drag me back to the door. We make eye contact for a moment. Then she looks away.
Like the mere sight of me is making her sick.
“Dia, baby, look at me.” I continue to call her name, doubling my efforts to get to her. I don’t know what I expect to happen if she does look at me. She’ll never listen to me this way. I can’t force her to forgive me, but I’m operating on crazy right now.
“Dia, go back upstairs,” Big Dad commands, but his daughter seems to be cemented into place, brown eyes burning with tears.
I’m not going down that easily. “Dia, please. Let me explain.”
