AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sephie looked to me, giving me the space to decide how much I let Cannon into my life. I loved her for it, especially since my family thrived on making decisions on my behalf without a single regard to my own desires.
“Yes,” I answered Cannon.
“So that’s why he let you go,” he said, and Sephie lightly smacked his tatted arm. “What?” he asked. “There’s no way any other cop would’ve let her just drive home when she was covered in alcohol.”
“Cannon Price,” Sephie chided.
“No, he’s right,” I said. “I was lucky.” I shook my head. “And stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid,” Sephie said, scooting closer to me. “You had a vulnerable moment. That’s to be expected. Change doesn’t happen overnight.”
I studied her blue eyes that were so like my own, and there wasn’t a hint of false support or judgment. She genuinely believed in me and wanted me to get better. God, I can’t believe I’d let my own trauma get in the way of loving my sister in a healthy way for so many years.
That’s in the past, which I can’t change. I can only change how I feel in the present.
“Next time,” she continued. “Call me. I don’t care what time it is. If you’re struggling, call me and I’ll be there.”
“Or me,” Cannon said. “If I’m not at practice or a game, I’ll be there too.”
Tears bit the backs of my eyes, my heart swelling in my chest. I didn’t deserve their kindness, especially after my behavior when I first met Cannon. I’d come on to him, for fuck’s sake. Sure, I’d done it as a test under the ridiculous notion that I’d be saving Persephone from a failed marriage like I’d experienced so many times, but I was wrong.
So very wrong.
“Thank you,” I managed to choke out before sucking in a breath. I didn’t need to turn into a puddle right now. “I don’t deserve you two—”
“Andromeda,” my father’s voice cut over my conversation, and I immediately sat up straighter. He had that tone, the one he so often used with me—a combination of disappointment and authority.
“Yes?” I asked as he came around the corner.
“A word.”
That’s all he said before turning on his heels and heading no doubt to his office. It was the source of his power after all, and I’d suffered many a lecture in there over the years.
“You don’t have to go in there,” Sephie said when I got up off the couch. “Or I can come with you.”
I smiled softly at her. “If I really want to reconnect with this family in a healthy way, I have to not only fight my own battles but also listen and do my best to make our parents proud. Ignoring him won’t do me any favors in that department, but thank you for offering.”
She hugged me quickly. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, and I tried not to squirm away from the gesture and the compliment. “We’re heading out,” Sephie said, her and Cannon following me out of the den. They interlocked hands, my sister almost melting into her new husband. It was super cute, if not a little disgusting. Who the hell was ever that happy? “Call me later?” she asked, and I nodded, waving goodbye as they left.
I stood outside of my father’s office door for far longer than necessary. Finally, after telling myself I’d disappointed him in much greater ways, I pushed open the door.
He was a sight behind his desk, all power and age and wisdom as he motioned for me to sit in the chair across from him.
“I heard everything,” he said as an intro, and I immediately slumped in my chair. I might as well be sixteen again, being scolded for sneaking out after curfew.
“I didn’t drink,” I said.
“I don’t believe you.”
Ouch. That smacked me right in the chest.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued. “It’s hard to believe you when you’ve spent the last decade lying to me.”
I furrowed my brow. “I rarely lied to you,” I said. “I just never behaved like you wanted me to.”
“You made false accusations against our security guard—someone who has been with us since you were little—a mere few weeks ago.”
Shame slithered beneath my skin like an oily serpent hell-bent on eating my soul. “I know,” I said, barely holding back the tears building in my chest. Goddammit, being sober was hard. I felt every single ounce of pain, regret, shame, all of it. “And I apologized. Profusely. It was wrong. Evil even. I know that. And I’m sorry. I really am, but I can’t change the past. I’m doing everything I can to change the present.”
