34. Adam
Adam
“Well, isn’t this a lovely event?”
That voice has my entire body stalling halfway down the stairs. This cannot be fucking happening right now.
No. This isn’t real. I do not hear my father’s voice. But when I look down, my eyes lock with Mia’s and my heart drops into my stomach.
“Oh, there he is. Come on down, Adam.”
Great, he’s using his politician voice.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m not entirely sure what emotion fills my body first as I see my parents standing there with their fake showboating smiles. Rage is probably the answer, but this paralyzing fear kicks in right after.
“Adam.” Mia’s panicked voice rips through my chest, and despite the small shake of her head telling me no—I have to get to her.
Racing down, I take Mia’s hand in mine and angle her behind me. “What are you doing here?” There’s zero warmth in my voice, and with Mia now behind me, Patrick gives me a concerned look. “Is everything okay here?”
“Of course—” Dad starts, but I don’t let him finish his bullshit.
“No, it’s not. You weren’t invited and you’re not welcome to stay.”
My mother places a hand over her heart. “Adam, this is silly. We’re here to celebrate our grandchild. Don’t you think we can all save face and talk about this later? Mia, I know you’re new to this family, but this is not Reyer behavior for throwing parties.”
“Now, hold on—” Patrick starts, but this is for me to handle.
“Don’t speak to her. You don’t have the fucking right to look at my wife. But since you brought it up, she’s not a Reyer. I won’t be burdening her or our child with that name.”
Their facades crack, but like fucking whiplash it comes back, and I see the fight calling in my father’s eyes.
“Yes, now that you mention it, I saw that little name change of yours.”
Ah, so that’s what’s brought them here. His fucking pride’s hurt because I erased his last name. There’s bound to be another angle I’m not seeing, but at this point I don’t care.
Mia squeezes my hand tightly and when she faces my parents head on, she doesn’t freeze. She holds her head high and in her calmest voice says, “It’s time for you to go. You’re not welcome in our home.”
Another chip at their ego, and this time they don’t fully recover. The fake politician bullshit act my father typically has in public is nearly gone. I’m sure he thought their appearance would be intimidating enough that I’d roll over and be just as compliant as I was as a kid.
The tension in the air is damn near suffocating, but I won’t fold. I won’t back down.
Patrick takes one step…and it’s one slightly in front of me. “Well, I believe we can all agree that this beautiful shower doesn’t need a scene, so why don’t we move outside?”
A beat of silence passes, and I know damn well it’s so Harrison Reyer can count down in his head. “I thought your hospitality would be better than this, Patrick. Asked to leave our own grandchild’s baby shower. With no chance to even speak to our daughter either. I wanted to meet her fiancé.”
“The hell you are. Stay away from Cal—”
The door behind us opens, and this entire situation goes from fucking bad to a motherfucking nightmare.
The smirk on my father’s face makes me sick. “Oh, look, there she is. Calliope, perfect timing.”
The number of curses on repeat in my head is endless. I can’t manage to turn my head to look back at her. “Callie, is Will with you?”
“Of course I am.” Venom laces his voice, and I get it, he knows what they’ve done.
Jett hits my peripheral from our living room. “Cals, why don’t you come with me? I’ll take you to Wyla.”
There’s a small wave of relief when she reaches Jett, but my heart breaks when I see her face. She’s worked so hard to let them go, to put everything behind her. We both have, really, but I didn’t stand up for her growing up—I can now.
“Mia, why don’t you go with Callie?”
“No.” The word is so strong and crystal clear.
“Mia,” her mom attempts next, but I know it’s not going to work.
“No,” she reiterates. “I’ll repeat myself again, Mr. and Mrs. Reyer. You are not welcome in our home. It is time for you to leave.”
The door clicks again behind us, and I spare a quick glance to see Dex, Beck, and Tripp joining Will.
“Don’t worry, people can walk out this door, too,” Will clips.
My mom puts her hand over her heart. “Adam, this is starting to be very hurtful. How can you let us be treated this way?”
Great, now we’re on to the victim act. I can let it roll off, but Mia on the other hand…
“My question to you, Mrs. Reyer, is how could you stand idly by while your own children were verbally, mentally, and physically assaulted by your husband?”
And just like that, their masks fully shatter. This weird look I’ve never seen from my mother crosses her face. She almost looks remorseful. I’d call it haunted. On the other hand, the explosion that’s ticking away at Harrison Reyer is damn near ready to blow.
“I’d watch your mouth if I were you,” he grits through his teeth.
“No, you fucking watch your mouth. You don’t get to speak to my wife. You don’t have the right to even look at the mother of my child.”
I dare one step forward and my dad matches it. I’m so fucking angry that they’re here, but I will never be him.
I manage a calm tone. “You’ve been asked to leave, so go.”
His fist and jaw clench. I know this look in his eyes all too well, but then the look clears when Mia’s dad steps between us.
“This is done. Mrs. Reyer, I’d love to walk you out. As for you, Harrison, I believe any of these men surrounding Adam wouldn’t mind escorting you to your car.”
“I’d personally love to,” Will offers.
A calm smirk pulls at the corner of my dad’s lips. “No need. We’ll see ourselves out.”
He takes one step to my left where Mia remains at my side. Patrick matches the step. “You can head around this way. I’ll be sure to see you out.”
My father huffs a small laugh. “Okay. Understood.”
I watch him the entire way to the door. He’s calculating something, I know it. I feel it deep in my bones that he’s not going to let today slide. Fuck, after everything, why the hell now?
When Patrick steps out with them on the porch, Dex gives me a nod. “We’ll make sure they leave.”
“Out the driveway, please.”
Will takes a step back after the door shuts, his hands flexes from holding a fist for, I’m sure, the entire conversation. “I’m going to find Callie. Are you good?”
That’s a loaded fucking question. “Good enough. I’ll talk to Cals in a sec.”
Turning to Mia, the worry on her face kills me. I hate that they’ve ruined this day for us. That this spot in our house has to hold this memory.
“Adam.” Her voice shakes, and her hand squeezes mine tight.
I place a kiss on her forehead, then meet her eyes. “Honey, you did nothing wrong. I love you so very much, but I need a minute alone.”
Her eyes dip, and I know I’m asking a lot because she deserves comfort after this too, but I won’t be able to do it without getting my shit together. I want to recover this day for us. I don’t want him to gain any power back.
“Hey, look at me.” I tilt her chin back. “Three minutes, okay?”
She nods, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Time starts now.”
The whole way up the stairs, I fight the urge to run back downstairs.
But to do what, I don’t know. Be with Mia?
Sure. Check on Callie? I know I need to.
Run out the door and show my father that despite never fighting back once, I’m perfectly capable of doing it now?
That’s the one that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other until I reach our bedroom and shut the door behind me.
“Fuck.” I run my hands over my face and back through my hair. “Fuck!”
I hate him. Why didn’t I tell him that? Would it have made me feel better?
Standing my ground in front of him felt good, but the fact that it feels so unfinished now is eating at me.
How do I protect Mia and Foster? How do I keep Callie out of this? How can I possibly face him again and not nosedive to his level?
Second chances and happiness felt like enough before he was standing in front of me…and now this sickly feeling of retribution is consuming me.
Locking my hands behind my neck, I pace back and forth. I’m down a minute and I need to get all these ugly thoughts out.
I’m so angry he held his head high walking in here. I hate that I don’t know the motive for them showing up. Some part of me wishes I got to see even an inkling of remorse on his face that my mother showed.
Her face may haunt me for a while. I always thought of her just not caring about what happened to us, but maybe I missed the abuse she suffered, too.
Was I a bad son for not noticing? Maybe I should’ve stopped her on her way out, but the disappointment of finding out she truly didn’t care is too much.
Dammit. I came in here to get it together, not spiral even more.
A knock sounds at the door and my entire body aches. I’m not ready yet. I’m not good enough for Mia right now.
“Adam.” My high school coach pops his head in. “Can I come in?”
I let out a breath. “I can’t say I’m the best company right now.”
“That’s alright.” He steps in, closing the door behind him. “That beautiful wife of yours is worried about you. So much so, that when I introduced myself, she asked me to come check up on you. It seems I missed the reunion.”
I stop in my tracks, my hands finally falling from my neck. “I’m trying to get it together before I go back downstairs.”
“Right, and how’s that going?”
“Badly.”
He nods. “Can I help?”
I toss my hands up. He can give his best go at it. I don’t really think a speech is going to help too much, but I hope I’m wrong.
Looking down at the floor, I wait for the typical opener of “You’re not him” and “You can’t let him win,” but there’s nothing but the sound of his footsteps, and suddenly I’m wrapped up in a hug.
It takes a second to register it, but my arms don’t move. When a minute passes, I’m sure he’s about to let go, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say anything or lessen his hold.