The Girl Next Door
Chapter 46

"You don't need to say anything."

"Is your mother aware of what's going on?"

I shake my head. "No, we haven't told anyone yet."

Tentatively, he steps toward me. "As much as I like Beck," there's a pause, and I steel myself for what will come next, "he's not the right guy for you."

I echo with disbelief, "He's not the right guy for me?"

His frown deepens into a scowl. "Come on, you know exactly what I mean. Beck doesn't have a serious bone in his body. His life is football. Other than that, he parties and sleeps around. I don't understand why you would be interested in someone like that." My mouth falls open. "Dad! That's not true!"

He closes the distance between us. "That kid has always been a troublemaker. I used to feel bad for Archie and Caroline, always having to clean up his messes."

"That was in high school," I grit out. "He's changed. People are capable of it."

"Has he really changed that much?" Dad snorts and rolls his eyes. "Because I replace that difficult to believe."

"Yeah, he has. Maybe you need to look at the person he is today instead of judging him for the one he used to be."

"Oh, please," he mutters. "Archie says he still gets into trouble."

I shift my weight and glare, frustrated with this conversation. "Have you ever considered the possibility that Archie is as biased as you are?"

He presses his lips together before jerking his shoulders into a shrug. An uncomfortable silence settles around us before a puff of breath escapes from him. "The last thing I want to see is you get hurt. Beck isn't the type of guy to be faithful."

Ha!

That's rich.

How can he look me in the eyes and say that?

Dad pokers up to his full height. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I flinch and realize the words have unintentionally slipped from my mouth.

"Mia?"

My heartbeat hammers in my ears until the sound is all I'm cognizant of. He stares as if he no longer recognizes me. What he doesn't realize is that the feeling is mutual. "I saw you last night, Dad."

He doesn't so much as blink. Not even a flicker of guilt enters his dark eyes. His lack of response is almost enough to make me question what I saw.

When he remains silent, I repeat myself, louder this time. "I was at Marco's last night and saw you having dinner with a blond woman."

Dad laughs, but the sound is forced. "You're mistaken, I was in Cincinnati."

He's lying. I know what I saw. He was at the restaurant. His dishonesty this morning is almost as hurtful and disappointing as catching him with another woman was last night. He'd rather create doubts in my mind than own up to his own shady actions. I never expected this kind of behavior from him.

It only hardens everything inside me.

"Stop lying. Beck is the one who spotted you, Dad. He didn't want me to see, so he tried to hustle me out of the restaurant. But I saw you anyway." I fold my arms tightly across my chest. "Would you like me to call him down here?"

His jaw tightens as anger flashes in his eyes. "That won't be necessary."

My voice drops as I shake my head. "You were never out of town, were you?" "No."

Even though I was expecting the answer, it still hits me like a sucker punch.

As painful as this line of questioning is, I push on. "Who is she?"

The anger dissipates from his eyes as sadness creeps in. "Does it really matter?"

Of course, it matters.

"You've been cheating on Mom." My eyes pop wide with disbelief. "So yeah, it kind of matters."

"She's a colleague," he begrudgingly admits.

Un-f*****g-believable.

"How long has this been going on for?"

"A while," he mutters, looking away.

What does that mean?

A few weeks?

A few months?

A few years? Longer?

It makes me sick to my stomach, and I replace myself unable to continue. My belly churns, and for a moment, I wonder if I'll throw up. My arms drop to my sides as if they weigh a thousand pounds. "How could you do this to Mom?" "I never meant for it to happen." His shoulders slump. "I-"

"That doesn't matter!" I cry with frustration. "You've been sneaking around and having an affair with another woman! Not only have you lied to Mom, but you've also been lying to me!"

"My personal relationships have nothing to do with you." He plows a hand through his hair. "You don't understand what it's been like since Brianna died."

"Really?" How can he say that? "I know exactly what it's been like! You're not the only one who lost her! Mom lost a daughter, and I lost my only sister! We all lost her, Dad, it wasn't just you!" Tears sting my eyes as anger boils in my blood. "How dare you use Brianna as an excuse for your infidelity!"

Heat slams into his cheeks as he winces. For the first time since his affair has been dragged into the light, he looks ashamed. "I'm not using her as an excuse," he mumbles.

"That's exactly what you're doing." I'm so disgusted by this conversation that I don't even want to look at him.

"Losing her was more than any of us could endure, and we all dealt with our grief differently."

"Did you ever consider," I shoot back, "that we should have dealt with it together instead of splintering apart the way we did?"

"Her death was so painful." His eyes grow distant. "Sometimes, it felt as if the grief was more than I could deal with."

I know, but still...

"What about Mom? Does she have any idea what's going on?" Maybe Beck is right, and she's aware of Dad's infidelity. If that turns out to be the case, I'm not sure how I'll be able to look at either of them the same way again. He shakes his head. "She doesn't know."

"You have to tell her, Dad. You have to make everything right. This can't continue."

Emotion flickers in his eyes before his gaze darts away.

A sliver of dread snakes down my spine as an uncomfortable silence stretches to the breaking point. "You are going to end this, right?" Panic and disbelief weave their way through my voice.

He drags a hand over his face. "The situation is more complicated than you can understand."

"You know what I understand?" Before he can respond, I continue, voice rising with every word. "That you made vows to Mom, and when Brianna was taken from us, you took the easy way out and had an affair. That's what I understand." The sound he makes when he swallows is audible. "I need to think about what's best for everyone."

What the hell does that mean?

A strangled laugh slides from my lips. "You know what would be best for me? If my family stayed intact." My voice fills with anger. "I think Mom would agree with that, don't you?"

When he presses his lips together and remains silent, I'm struck with a heartbreaking realization. It's as painful as a two-by-four slamming into the back of my head.

"You have no intention of ending this affair, do you?" The words might be arranged in the form of a question, but it's not.

We both know the answer without him having to verbalize it.

"It's complicated," he repeats weakly, as if that makes it better.

"No," I snap, losing my patience, "it's not. You have a wife. A woman you've been married to for over twenty-five years. Explain what's complicated about it?"

The acidic taste of bile rises in my throat.

His reluctance to end this relationship makes me realize that it's not a casual affair. Even though I had purposefully dropped the issue a few minutes ago, I now feel the need to press for an answer. "How long has this been going on?" "A while."

"A year?" I spit.

He stares mutely.

My voice escalates. "A few years?"

His stubborn silence sends a wave of nausea and anger crashing through me.

"This is your chance to do the right thing," I grit out. My hands tighten into useless fists that hang at my sides. Disappointment and exasperation churn in my gut. I don't think I've ever felt this disgusted with anyone in my life. Let alone, one of my parents. How is this issue not cut and dry?

Not once has he shown an ounce of remorse or offered to end his affair. And that's frightening. This woman-whoever she is-means something to him. Possibly more than we do.

Unable to stomach the sight of my father, I swing around and force myself up the staircase. Putting one foot in front of the other feels like a Herculean effort. When I'm halfway up, I pause and glance down at him. He hasn't budged from the foyer. "If you don't tell her, I will."

Spitting out those words feels like the equivalent to dropping a bomb.

It's appalling that I have to threaten him.

He jerks his head into a tight nod but offers nothing more.

As I stare at my dad, I realize he's not the man I thought he was.

How could he be?

The father I've revered since childhood would never hurt the people he loves the way this one has.

This man is nothing more than a stranger.