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I don’t know why the fuck I wrote her that note. It’s proof. Proof that last night happened. She could show it to anyone, to Lyla, and I would be fucked.
But I trust her.
I hope I’m not wrong.
At least I have company to distract me from thinking about Holly later that night.
My good friend, possibly even best friend, John Bowers, stopped by unannounced.
It’s not uncommon for him to do so, especially since he’s been dating my oldest daughter, Laurel, and she had unofficially moved in with him. Except she’s not with him tonight.
I wasn’t happy when I first found out about them being together, but I trust John. I know he’s a good man who treats Laurel well, even if he is eight years older than her.
Those eight years don’t seem like anything compared to the twenty between me and Holly. It’s not as if John is old enough to be Laurel’s father.
“Come on in and have a seat,” I tell him as I drop into the living room chair. While John’s never been flashy with his money, one look at him in his pressed pants and button-down, brown hair perfectly combed, and you just know he’s never had to work a day in his life with his hands. He grew up in board meetings with his strict, uppity father, learning how to run his multimillion-dollar businesses, then sold them all as soon as the old man passed away. Good on him, I say. If you get a shot at true American freedom, the kind only a big bank account can buy, you’d be crazy not to take it and run.
Remembering all that reminds me of what Holly said about her parents wanting to control her life, but she broke free to do what she wanted. Which is apparently supervising brats all day. She’s one of those girls – one who loves being around children and probably wants a dozen of her own.
“Isaac, the reason I stopped by tonight is…I want to marry Laurel,” John finally says. He’s still standing behind the sofa as if he thinks he needs a buffer between us after saying those words. And he was right to stay out of arm range from my fists.
“Jesus, John,” I mutter in disbelief as I scrub my palms over my face. “You’ve only been dating for a few months!”
“A few months that you knew about.”
“You sorry son of a bitch,” I say without venom as I shake my head.
“I hated sneaking around behind your back. Laurel did too,” he says when he comes around and finally sits on the sofa. “But neither of us were sure it was more than… Anyway, we love each other. I love her more than any other person in this world, Isaac. Give me your blessing. I don’t need it, but I would still like to have it.”
It’s as if John picked today because he knows, because heknowsI would be a fucking hypocrite after last night with Holly if I tell him no.
And I know Laurel is far from innocent. It wouldn’t even be her first wedding. I did everything I could to talk her out of that other one. I think she probably only married the Fulton boy because I tried to convince her not to, and she was too stubborn to change her mind.
Now, if she wants to marry John, well, I’m more worried about whether or not she can be faithful to him. If not, she’ll break his heart like she did that boy.
“If you’re both sure about this,” I tell him. “Then I’m fine with it too.”
“Really?” John asks, his brow raised in surprise. “I thought you would try to kick my ass to change my mind.”
“Laurel’s not a kid anymore. She can make her own decisions, and so can you. I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Thank you, Isaac,” he says with a small smile. “I know how most people see Laurel as…difficult, selfish, and materialistic. But on the inside, she’s different. I’m glad that I get to see that side of her, even if most people don’t.”
“You don’t have to tell me that my daughter is decent at her core. I know that,” I huff. “But she could be nicer to her sister.”
“Laurel’s just jealous of Lyla. She thinks you love her more than her, but I know that’s not true.”
“It’s not,” I say without conviction. And it’s not true. I just…out of guilt, I put more time and effort into keeping an eye on Lyla to make sure she didn’t turn out like her real father. It was the best I could do for her.
I did what I could to keep Lyla safe because she doesn’t deserve the hand life dealt her. She was too young to even remember her mother’s face. Even before Christine died, she rarely held or fed Lyla. No, that duty fell to my mother because, like a coward, I stayed “busy” with the business as much as possible to avoid them both.
Hurting Lyla again, letting her down like I did before, is unacceptable.
Which means that no matter how badly I may want Holly, I’ll stay away and try to forget her. Determined to put any further thoughts of her out of my head, I focus on John and give him the best glare I can muster. “Let’s talk a bit more about your intentions with my daughter…”
* * *
Holly
