34. Corey
34
COREY
A bbie’s nails dig into my arm like she’s trying to anchor herself to the floor. Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly open, and she breathes out, “Holy fucking shit.”
Chandler’s face goes from pale to beet red faster than I’ve ever seen. He’s staring at her like he’s just seen a ghost, and not the kind that disappears when you blink.
“Abbie?” His voice cracks, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound this unsure of himself. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her grip tightens, and I feel her pulse racing through her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at him like she’s trying to decide if this is real or some twisted nightmare.
“You two know each other?” I ask, my voice calm, but my brain is already rewriting the last few weeks in my head, scrambling to make sense of the pieces. And I don't like what I'm coming up with.
Chandler’s jaw tightens, and he steps forward, his eyes locked on Abbie. “Know each other? Dad, she’s my—” he stops himself, like he can’t even get the words out. “Are you serious right now? Are you fucking my ex-girlfriend?”
The room goes silent. Even Seth stops mid-sip of his wine, his eyebrows shooting up. Donovan’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, and I see the smirk playing on his lips like he’s enjoying the chaos.
Abbie finally finds her voice, and it’s small but sharp. “Ex-boyfriend. Emphasis on the ex .”
Chandler scoffs, throwing his hands up. “Yeah, sure. Ex. That’s why you’re here, standing next to my dad of all people, looking like—like—” he gestures at her, his words failing him.
“Chandler.” My voice cuts through the room, and he stops mid-rant. “Watch your mouth.”
His head snaps to me, his eyes blazing. “My mouth? Seriously, Dad? You’re... this is... what the hell is even happening right now?”
Abbie steps forward, pulling her hand from my arm, and I see the fire in her now. “What’s happening is I’m here for dinner, and you’re making a scene. So maybe take a breath and think before you say something else you’ll regret.”
Chandler’s date, Mara, looks like she’s debating whether to laugh or bolt. She’s standing awkwardly by the door, clutching her purse like she’s ready to make a run for it.
“Abbie, you don’t get to—” Chandler starts, but Seth interrupts.
“Alright, alright,” he says, standing up and clapping his hands. “Enough. Everyone take a seat. This is supposed to be a dinner, not a Lifetime movie.”
Seth moves between Chandler and Abbie like a referee at a boxing match, his usual easy smile replaced with something more serious. "Everyone needs to take a breath and sit down. The food's getting cold, and we're all adults here." He shoots me a look that clearly says 'fix this.'
Donovan pushes off from the wall, running a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ, kid," he mutters to Chandler. "Of all the chicks in this city..." He shakes his head, then turns to me. "And you. Couldn't have mentioned this little detail beforehand?"
"I didn't know," I say, my voice tight. The irony isn't lost on me – I've been worried about Seth's interest in Abbie when I should've been worried about my own son's history with her.
"Well, this is..." Seth gestures vaguely at the tension-filled room, "definitely not what I expected when I got dressed for dinner." He grabs the wine bottle from the table. "Anyone need a refill? Or maybe something stronger?"
"Stronger," Chandler and Abbie say in unison, then glare at each other.
Donovan moves closer to Chandler, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Listen, godson or not, you're going to sit down and act like the adult you claim to be." His voice drops lower. "You hear what I'm saying?"
Chandler's face flushes darker, if that's even possible. "This is different, Don. This is?—"
"Your ex-girlfriend, yeah, we got that part," Seth interrupts, already pouring generous amounts of whiskey into fresh glasses. "Now sit down before you give your old man an aneurysm."
"Enough!" My voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. The room falls silent, everyone freezing mid-motion. "Everyone sit down. Now."
They comply, though Chandler looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel. I turn to Abbie, who's gripping her glass like it might shatter. "Abbie, please explain what happened between you and my son."
Her eyes dart between Chandler and me. "We dated for a couple of years. He broke up with me a recently because I wasn't 'fun' anymore. Said I was too focused on school and finding a real job." Her voice steadies as she continues. "That's when I applied at the Velvet Room. I had no idea it was connected to you, or that Chandler was your son."
"You didn't think to mention who your dad was?" Abbie asks Chandler, her voice sharp.
"Like you ever asked," Chandler snaps back. "And anyway, I was coming here tonight to tell Dad I wanted to make changes. Go back to school. Maybe..." He glances at Mara, then back to Abbie. "Maybe try again with you."
Mara's steps forward, furious. "Try again? Are you fucking kidding me?" Her face flushes red. "We've been dating for four months, Chandler. Four months! What am I, your placeholder?"
"Four months?" Abbie's eyebrows shoot up. "We only broke up a few weeks ago."
"Oh shit," Seth mutters into his glass.
Chandler's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. "Mara, I can explain?—"
"Don't bother." Mara grabs her purse. "You're exactly the immature asshole everyone says you are." She turns to me. "I'm sorry, Mr. King, but I won't be staying for dinner."
The front door slams behind her, leaving us in stunned silence.
Chandler's face twists into something ugly, a sneer I've never seen on my son before. "So what, you're just a whore now? Spreading your legs for anyone with money?"
"Watch your fucking mouth." The words leave my lips at the same time Seth and Donovan step forward, their faces dark with anger.
Chandler throws his head back and laughs, the sound bitter and harsh. "This is fucking ridiculous. All of you? Really?" His eyes fix on Abbie, who's gone pale. "Such a prude with me, wouldn't even let me touch you half the time, but you'll fuck all of them? What changed, Abbie? The size of their bank accounts?"
The crack of Donovan's fist connecting with Chandler's jaw echoes through the dining room. My son stumbles back, catching himself on the wall.
"Don't you ever," Donovan's voice is low, dangerous, "disrespect a woman in your father's house like that again. You’re an ungrateful prick."
Chandler touches his jaw, his eyes wild.
"Chandler—" I start, but he's already pushing past Seth, heading for the door.
"Save it. I'm done. Have fun with your little whore party."
The front door slams so hard the windows rattle. The guilt settles within me like lead, even though I know I've done nothing wrong. I didn't know she was his ex. But somehow, that makes it worse.
The sound of Seth and Donovan arguing fades into background noise as I scan the room. Something's missing. Someone.
"Where's Abbie?"
My question cuts through their heated discussion about what to do with Chandler. Seth glances around, his brow furrowing. Through the window, I catch sight of a figure pacing in my circular driveway, phone pressed to her ear.
"I'll handle this," I say, leaving them to their debate about whether Donovan should have punched my son.
The night air hits my face as I step outside. Abbie's heels click against the concrete as she walks back and forth, her free hand gesturing wildly.
"Three minutes? Okay, thank you." She ends the call, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Abbie—"
"Don't." She turns to face me, her makeup slightly smeared at the corners of her eyes. "Just... don't."
"I had no idea he was?—"
"Your son?" She laughs bitterly. "Yeah, well, neither did I. God, what was I thinking?" She runs her fingers through her hair, messing up the careful styling. "Three men. Three! I'm involved with three men, and one of them turns out to be my ex's father. This is..." She shakes her head. "This is complete chaos."
"We can figure this out."
"Figure what out? How I finger fucked your best friend in your hallway less than an hour ago? How I've been sleeping with your business partner? How I dated your son for years?" Her voice cracks. "I need time. Space. This can't... this won't work."
Headlights sweep across the driveway as her ride pulls up.
"Abbie, please?—"
She's already opening the car door. "I'm sorry, Corey. I just... I can't."
The door closes with a soft click, and I watch the taillights disappear down my driveway, taking with them any chance of salvaging this night.