46. Chapter 46
Chapter 46
LANE
Iopen the front door and stumble inside. Now that I’m home, I know I’ll have some answering to do. My parents are going to expect it when what I really need is space to lick my wounds. If I can’t have that, then a shower, hot meal, and some sleep before unraveling the events of the past twenty-four hours would be nice. But I know I’ll get none of those things seeing as how Sophie’s already up for the morning and I’m just getting home.
Removing my jacket, I quickly hang it in the coat closet as my stomach rumbles. Despite my bleeding heart, my empty stomach is catching up with me. If I’m to parent at all today, at the very least, I’m going to need some toast and the largest mug of coffee I can find.
I head toward the kitchen, wondering when I ate last, only to decide it must’ve been yesterday morning. I’d been in too much of a hurry to find my father before the game started to stop for lunch and too sick to my stomach to eat after what happened with Teagan.
I exhale as the hallway ends and opens into the kitchen, and my steps falter.
Dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I my gaze falls to my parents, sitting around the island with a pot of coffee in front of them, along with the remnants of breakfast. Either they waited up for me all night or woke with the intention of addressing everything my father overheard yesterday. A quick sweep of the living room across from me confirms my suspicions when I find Sophie oddly absent.
Shit.
I swallow the nausea rising in the back of my throat when I realize I won’t even have a reprieve over breakfast. Though I’m not sure why I expected anything different. They deserve answers, and I can’t blame them for wanting them now.
“Where’s Soph?” I ask, feeling slightly sheepish. I’m five years old again, in trouble and afraid to look them in the eye.
My arms hang limply at my sides. I’m a shell of the person I was on Friday night when I was in Teagan’s arms—beaming, happy, full of life. I hate everything that’s happened in-between then and now, but there’s no going back, so I put one foot in front of the other.
“She’s over at Gail’s house next door,” my mother says. “She’s helping her rake leaves.”
I nod. I know how much Mrs. Miller misses Sophie since putting her in daycare. I’ve been promising I’d drop by for days but haven’t had the chance. I guess this time, it worked out.
Lucky me.
“Have a seat.” My mother motions to the chair beside her, her smile forced.
Beside her, Dad won’t even look at me.
I slide into the seat next to Mom and risk another glance at my father, noting the pinched forehead and angry slash of his mouth, and I wonder if he plans on ignoring me forever. Maybe he’s going to let Mom do all the talking and sit there like a mute. Or maybe he’s simply biding his time to tell me how much I’ve disappointed him. I’m not sure which is worse.
I reach out, ignoring the nerves tangling in my chest like a thicket of brambles, and grab the coffee carafe, along with the empty mug sitting beside it, and pour myself a cup. Steam curls from the lip, and the nutty aroma instantly soothes the tiniest of nerves.
I doctor it with cream while my mother rises from her chair, piling an empty plate with fresh fruit and a muffin, which she then slides toward me as she reclaims her spot.
My stomach churns. I might have been starving a moment ago, but I’m not so sure I can choke anything down now. Not with the air of disapproval hovering over me.
Still, anything is better than meeting their eyes or starting a conversation I don’t know how to have, so I force myself to take a bite of fruit while I wonder what advice I’d give Sophie in this situation.
I suppose I’d tell her not to lie to the ones she loves, but it’s too late for that. Been there, done that, and now it’s ruined several lives. Not just mine but also the lives of my loved ones.
Maybe it’s time I start following my own parental advice.
Silence surrounds us. I can only guess what they’re thinking, how shocked and crestfallen they must be to discover I’ve hidden the truth right under their noses.
I can feel Mom’s probing gaze on the side of my face, sense Dad’s pain and anger radiating from him like the steam rising from my cup, and I decide all at once that the silence is so much worse than whatever they could possibly say.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt after a moment, unable to take it anymore. “I’m so sorry I lied, that I didn’t tell you the truth. I never meant to hurt anybody. I was just doing what I thought was best for everyone involved.”
Mom inhales sharply. “So, it’s true? Chance is Sophie’s father?”
I find the courage to tear my gaze from my plate and glance over at her and nod. “Yes.”
Emotion flickers through her eyes and it’s a moment before she speaks again. “How did it happen . . .?” She grunts and waves her hands out in front of herself. “I mean, I know how.” Dad winces. “But what I mean is, when did you two start seeing each other? How long were you involved, and how did we not know about it?”
I swallow, wondering where to start. I’ve held this secret for so long, it’s like I don’t know where it begins and where it ends.
“It was toward the end of junior year that it started to feel like maybe there was something there. Then early that summer, I felt a spark, but I never thought he’d be interested in me. He was so popular and at the top of his game. A million girls wanted him. And maybe that was part of the appeal. Feeling wanted by someone everyone else wished they could have puts kind of a spell on you. I don’t know.”
I shake my head and breathe before continuing, trying not to think about it too hard. “But we’d known each other for years, so we were already comfortable with each other. That summer, at football camp, I went to help Dad and we saw each other almost every day. Conversations deepened. Feelings grew. He said he loved me.” My throat catches on the words. “And I believed him. I thought maybe I loved him, too.”
Of course, now I know better. What Chance and I shared was never love. Infatuation, maybe. Lust, certainly. But not love. Not like with Teagan. Not the kind of all-consuming, soul-crushing, tear-your-heart-out, can’t-imagine-my-life-without-you kind of love.
Pushing the thought of Teagan away, I lift my chin and wait for my parents to say something because I’ll never get through this if I dwell on him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mom asks after a moment.
For the first time since I sat down, l feel my father’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare to look. If anyone has the power to draw my tears, it’s him, and I’ve shed enough of those for one night.
I exhale slowly, trying to find a way to tell them in which they might understand, but all I have now is the truth. I won’t make the same mistake twice; I won’t lie to them again.
“When I found out I was pregnant, I was so scared to tell you. The last thing I wanted to do was disappoint either of you, but I thought maybe with Chance by my side, it would be easier. We’d do this together. But when I told him, it didn’t go over well and certainly not how I’d expected. He told me we were too young. That he wasn’t ready to be a father. To his credit, both of those were true. But he also told me that if I chose to keep the baby, it was on me. She was mine to raise because he wanted nothing to do with her.”
I shrug, noting for the first time the shadows beneath my father’s eyes.
“So that’s what I did,” I continue. “After I processed everything he said, I accepted full responsibility for Sophie from that day forward. I chose to have her, to keep her, and raise her. He made his choice very clear, and I know how close you are to Chance, especially Dad, so I knew he wouldn’t accept Chance walking away scot-free.” I glance at him and quickly glance away again, the turmoil flickering in his gaze more than I can handle. “Then, a day later, I overheard a conversation between Dad and Kyle Bradley, the director at CU. I heard him promise Dad that if he brought Chance with him, he’d hire him as head coach.”
Dad curses under his breath and places his head in his hands, but I can’t stop, no matter how much the truth hurts.
Telling them is like popping the cork on a bottle of champagne. With each word, the pressure in my chest eases a little more.
“So I lied,” I continue, chin quivering. “When you asked who the father was, I simply told you it was one of the out-of-state kids from camp. It was so much easier than the truth. My life was already being flipped on its head and I wasn’t taking yours with it. As it was, you went from nearly being empty nesters to having a grandbaby at home overnight, and if you had known it was Chance, it would’ve made it so much worse. I know how Dad is. First, he would’ve demanded Chance take responsibility, and when that didn’t work, he would’ve washed his hands of him in spite of his dreams. Chance would’ve gone elsewhere to college, and Dad’s dream job would’ve passed him by, and I couldn’t have that. You were already sacrificing so much—your home, your time, your reputation—for your pregnant teen daughter, and I couldn’t let you sacrifice this one thing, too.”
Mom grips her coffee cup, her knuckles turning white, “You should’ve told us upfront. Even if you wanted to wait a year until your father started at CU, why not tell us then? It’s not a small lie, Lane. Were you going to hide it forever?”
“I know!” I yell, startled by my own outburst. “I know,” I repeat, softer.
I exhale as guilt roils in my stomach. “The damage was done at that point. The lie was already out there, and nothing was going to change with Chance, so it made the most sense not to disrupt your lives over something that wouldn’t change. How would Dad feel knowing he got his dream job on account of the guy who knocked me up and left me? How would he look him in the eye and coach him every single day knowing he wants nothing to do with our Sophie?”
Silence settles in the space between us while I toy with the muffin in front of me, tearing it into pieces.
“But all this time, you could’ve made it easier on yourself. Even if he didn’t want Soph, like it or not, she’s still his. At the very least, Chance had a financial obligation to—”
“Mom,” I huff out a breath. “He was a high school student with no job, same as me. What could he possibly have done for us?”
“You held a job, and he should’ve, too. He would’ve been forced to work, at least a little bit.”
“What would be the point?” I ask, my voice rising slightly, tired of this conversation.
All I want is to crawl into bed and sleep for a year, until all of this is over and I can open my eyes without the claws of guilt wreaking havoc in my chest. Without the pain of knowing I’ve probably pushed Teagan away for good incinerating my insides to dust.
“You shouldn’t have had to do this alone!” Mom says, digging in her heels.
My gaze softens and I reach out, taking one of her hands currently squeezing the life out of her coffee cup in mine. “I didn’t. Mom, I had you and Dad.” I give her hand a little squeeze and her eyes glisten. “You could’ve thrown me out on my butt. At the very least, you could’ve easily shamed me or told me I was a disappointment. Do you have any idea what you’ve done for me? How much you’ve helped by just being here? You guys are my rock.”
“It was a simple mistake; one a lot of people have made before you.” Fire blazes in Mom’s eyes, and her voice shakes.
“While that may be true, not all parents would have been as understanding. You allowed me to stay here so I could scrimp and save my money. You threw me the biggest graduation party on the face of the planet, so I could get the most graduation money possible. All of those things allowed me to put a down payment on my dream home, a home for Sophie. If not for you guys, my situation would have been so much worse. Sophie and I would’ve turned out a lot different. The least I could do was return the favor and give Dad his dream—”
“Fuck my dream!” A bang collides with the harsh rasp of my father’s voice, and I jump.
The breath freezes in my lungs as I turn to him. His balled fist rests on the table, eyes swimming with pent-up rage. “Do you really think I’d choose football over you? That a game is more important?”
“No,” I choke out. “Which is exactly why—”
“You are always number one, Lane. Always.” His voice trembles as he jabs a finger at me. “You should’ve told us and let the chips fall where they may. You’re our daughter,” he says, like it pains him. “You’re more important to me than some stupid job could ever be.”
My eyes fill, and I curse myself when the first tear falls. “But the truth would’ve changed nothing,” I manage through the tightening of my throat.
“Maybe not.” Dad leans forward and grips my face in his large hands, wiping away a tear only for it to be replaced by one of his own. “But at least we could’ve been there for you. At least, I wouldn’t have invited Chance in here every fucking Sunday during the season for brunch or to my office to go over plays. A mistake I can forgive but abandoning my grandchild”?he shakes his head?“not taking responsibility for his actions, that I cannot. At the very least, he should’ve told me. He should’ve been a man and come clean.”
He releases me and it’s like a weight I didn’t know I was carrying has been lifted from my shoulders. “You’re not the only one who lied, Lane. Remember that,” Dad says.
I blink over at him, coming to terms with the fact this changes a lot for him.
“I treated him like one of my own.” Dad scrubs a hand over his face. “We invited him into our home, our lives. I trusted him. But the whole time, every time I saw him and he didn’t own up to being Sophie’s father, he lied to me. It’s making me question everything I thought I knew about him as a man.”
Mom shakes her head, face pale. “To think of all the times he was around Sophie, and this whole time he knew . . .”
“It’s unforgiveable.” Dad clenches his jaw, gaze lifted as he stares out the windows behind me. “Chance Lockhart is dead to me.”