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Alma blinked at JoJo, then laughed. “I just got here.”
“It’s best if we discuss this after we’ve had some time to cool off.” JoJo was in command, not a pushover when it came to her sister. I could’ve taken a lesson from her in that regard.
“I’m not leaving.” Alma stomped her high heel on the marble floor.
“If you stay, things none of us can take back will be said.”
“I just caught you kissing my husband,” she screamed.
I cringed. Nothing good came when Alma reached that decibel level.
My soon-to-be ex-wife’s gaze narrowed on me. “And you said we were going to try to fix our marriage. I’ve moved back into our apartment.”
“I said no such thing.” I spoke through my teeth as I balled my fist.What are you doing, Alma?
JoJo paled.
“You did,” she insisted sweetly. “In our home. We . . .reconnected.” There was no mistaking the intent behind the word.
And she knew damn well we hadn’t connected in any way in longer than anyone else would believe. Yet it still hadn’t been long enough for me.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You heard JoJo. Get out.” I didn’t have to be diplomatic.
Alma shrugged off her jacket and tossed it on a barstool in defiance.
I’d just met my daughter—daughter—for the first time. The one she oh-so-conveniently forgot to tell me about. Was it too much to ask for a few days of . . . maybe it hadn’t exactly been peaceful, but not all-out war?
Something shifted in me. JoJo had been the closest target. She’d delivered the bombshell. But my anger had been misdirected.
Here, in the flesh, was the person who truly deserved my anger. She had dragged me through hell by my hair. I’d let her so part of that was on me.
But she’d cast Penelope off on her sister and never once thought to mention it to me.
Shewas the one who’d stolen from me.
Shewas the liar.
Red blurred my vision. What a vicious bitch she was.
Why was she here? To wreak more havoc? Had she not done enough?
Now I could see the utter contempt Alma had for her own flesh, and understood the lies she’d told about me, I could actually comprehend why JoJo kept Penelope away. She had been protecting her. And not just from me.
I had the urge to shield Penelope. She needed to see the real Alma, though the hardly existent wistful part of me thought my almost ex-wife might have had the same reaction that I had to our daughter.
Awe.
Humbled.
Love.
As I glared at Alma, I hated her even more yet felt gratitude. Giving up Penelope to JoJo was the best thing she could’ve done for our daughter. A life in the miserable world we’d created was no place for that bright young woman.
While I knew I would’ve done things differently, if I’d been in the picture, Alma would’ve continued to make all our lives a living hell. She would’ve used Penelope as a bargaining chip.
At least my daughter was an adult. She wouldn’t have those scars of a screwed-up childhood.
One day, you’ll have to give her the choice to get to know Alma.
