Chapter 10 Ophelia
OPHELIA
Afew days after my dinner with the Foxes, I decide I’m going to see my father whether he wants me there or not. I can’t put off telling him about the engagement any longer. Invitations will begin going out within the week, and beyond that, I need him to explain his letter telling me to stay away.
I walk into the prison, hearing the sounds of guards calling out, of heavy metal doors clanging open or closed. The smell of the place is stale, like body odor and old food, and the thought that my father will spend the next ten years in here is too much.
I wait at the small table the guard had pointed to, jittery, anxiously bouncing my leg. At least he’s in a federal prison so the offenders aren’t violent. Or at least not as violent as they could be? I don’t know. It looks pretty bad from my perspective.
A door opens, and a guard walks into the visiting room. Following him is my father.
He stops short because he was expecting his lawyer, not me.
I stand up.
“Phee?” My father takes me in, exhales, something warring in his tired eyes. He crosses to my table.
“Dad.”
“What are you doing here? I told you not to come.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not how family works.”
The guard who brought Dad in clears his throat, and Dad glances at him. “Sit down, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” I repeat as we both sit.
“You lost weight, honey,” he says.
“Yeah, well, it’s been a rough few years.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he says after a deep sigh. “Hurting you is the one thing I never wanted.”
Tears well in my eyes at the sight of him like this. I reach over, put my hand on his. “That letter?” I shake my head. “I’m not abandoning you, Dad.”
Dad grits his jaw, eyes narrowing as he studies me. Anxiety builds in my belly. I can already see how he will look at me when I tell him about the engagement.
“I brought this for you,” I say, getting the photo I took from the house out of my bag.
Dad looks down at it, surprised. His head tilts to the side, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips. He traces Mom’s face.
“I thought the movers had packed it up and taken it. Best case scenario.”
I shake my head. “I’d put it away.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He looks up at me. “You look so much like her.” His eyes shine with unshed tears.
“How are you doing in here?” I ask.
“It’s not so bad. I’ll get used to it. Don’t worry about me. How is school?”
“Good. Fine.” I bite my lip, hesitating before finally asking. “What happened with the plea deal? You said… I don’t believe you took that money. You couldn’t have. You wouldn’t.”
He draws a deep breath in but remains silent.
“I just don’t understand, Dad,” I say.
“Cutting a deal is not the same as being guilty, sweetheart. I just weighed my options. Ten years in here is better than twenty.”
I shake my head, feeling like I’m missing something. What he did, it just doesn’t fit. Although his lawyer wasn’t able to discuss any details with me, I know he was also taken aback by Dad’s decision to reverse course.
“We don’t have much time. I need to discuss something with you, Phee.”
“I need to tell you something too.”
“I can guess what it is. Silas Cruz paid me a visit a few days ago.”
“Silas was here?”
“He mentioned something I don’t want to believe is true.”
“Silas Cruz is a self-satisfied—"
“Are you engaged to Ethan Fox?”
Blood rushes my face. I open my mouth, but words don’t come.
“So, it’s true,” he says, reading my expression.
“I was going to tell you today. It’s one of the reasons I came.”
“How long have you been engaged to him?”
Shit. “Doesn’t matter.”
“How long, Ophelia?”
“A year. Just under a year.” I can’t quite hold his gaze.
He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. “And you didn’t think I needed to know?”
“A lot has been going on.”
“So, you didn’t think I needed to know that my daughter is engaged to a Fox?” he asks, voice firmer. “When is the wedding?”
“June.”
He looks shocked. “He moves fast.”
“It’ll be after graduation. And once we’re married, I’ll work for the company, Dad. I’ll take over the low-income housing project. I will head it up so it will continue.”
Now it’s me to surprise him. “What?”
“Mr. Fox was going to put an end to the project, and this way—”
“Are you being blackmailed into marrying Ethan Fox?” he asks, raising his voice.
“No, no, it’s not like that. I mean, it’s faster than I wanted, but it’s fine. Ethan and I have known each other for a long time—”
“It’s hardly a reason to marry. What the hell are you doing, Phee?”
“I’m doing what we always thought I’d do.”
“That was before this mess.”
“His family has taken care of me throughout this mess.”
He snorts. “Hardly out of the goodness of their hearts, I’m sure.”
“What does that mean? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Considering what’s happened, Dad, I don’t think you can criticize them—”
“What did I just say about guilt?”
“Why would you cut a deal? Why not fight it? If you’re not guilty, you can win. Just tell the truth—”
He laughs outright, which has me fisting my hands in my lap. “You’re na?ve, sweetheart. And that’s my fault. I was too protective of you. I let you believe the world was a good place. But I need you to listen to me now. I don’t want you marrying Ethan Fox.”
“Why not? You and the Foxes always thought we’d be married someday.”
“Someday is gone. Things are different.”
“For you, yes, but out there for me the Foxes have been like family.”
“Family? They are not your family.” What he sees in my expression makes him backtrack. “Do you love him?”
“What?” I ask, feeling a strange catching in my throat.
“Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like obligation. Like blackmail.”
“Why would you say that? I’ve known Ethan for ten years. We grew up together.”
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“Five minutes,” a guard calls out.
“Tell me something else. Do the Foxes know you’re here, Phee?”
I hesitate, but he raises his eyebrows and looks at me the way he used to when I was younger. “No,” I say, eyes cast down.
“I’m guessing they wouldn’t be pleased.”
“You’re the one who had your lawyer send me that letter telling me to stay away!”
Dad sighs and sets his elbow on the table, hand to his mouth as he studies me for what feels like an eternity. I know this stance. This is him thinking up his plan, adding up the pros and cons before proceeding.
“You’re disappointed,” I say when I can’t stand the silence a moment longer.
“Sweetheart,” he starts putting his hand over mine. “I want the best for you, and Ethan Fox is not it.”
“Did Silas tell you that?” I ask. “I didn’t realize you two were so close.”
“Time.” The guard calls for prisoners to line up, and chairs scrape as visitors and prisoners say their goodbyes.
I hate to say it, but I’m relieved.
“Silas is a decent man.”
At that, I snort. “Then you don’t know him like I do.” I stand.
“I’m going to call Higgins. He’ll make sure to draw up a solid prenup—”
“Prenup? Why would I need that? If anything, Ethan should be asking me for one. I need to go.”
“Ophelia!”
“Mr. Hart. Time. Rules are the same for everyone in here,” a guard says.
Dad ignores him. “Has he asked you to sign one?”
“I hardly see how that matters. Look, I came because you’re my father.
I don’t want to abandon you. But you’ve put me in a difficult place here too.
Ethan is my fiancé. You can’t ask me to choose between them and you.
They’re not asking that.” Not outright, at least. I feel shamefaced to have said it.
“No? You don’t know Sly Fox like I do, Phee. He has a plan.”
“I didn’t come to fight with you.”
“Mr. Hart, I’m sorry,” the prison guard says, and he takes my father’s arm to walk him out of the visiting room. When he stops for them to open the door, Dad looks back at me.
“Stay away from them, Phee. Please.”