I knew something was wrong the moment I saw Gwyneth sneaking up behind a car.
Then came King’s fucking loud voice, because he doesn’t know how to stay quiet.
Then Aspen’s full-body shudder as she barely remains upright.
But the only person I care about is the girl who’s standing in front of them, her mouth falling open and her nails clinking against each other fast, as if she’s on a mission to injure herself.
I step to her side, holding her elbow because she’s on the verge of something, and it’s not something good.
Her gaze slides to mine and it’s a myriad of confused, muted colors as she gulps. “Nate…they said…Dad…called her my mother. It’s not true, right?”
I tighten my jaw, then glare at King, who’s clenching his fists because he knows he fucked up. He couldn’t just keep quiet. No, he had to make a scene and have her find out this way.
He hasn’t been subtle at all since he woke up from the coma. Even I could see that his animosity toward Aspen was uncalled for. She hit back as hard as she could, but he’s been going as far as sabotaging her cases, which isn’t like him. He never did that in the past, no matter how much he hated her.
But after he hit his head, he started going after her like he does to Susan, ruthlessly and without pause, which means it’s a personal grudge, not just some differences in ideologies.
That’s when I dug deeper—met with his PI, got him drunk, then asked him a few questions that he answered like a parrot. And my suspicions were right. He did find Gwyneth’s mother for King and told him about it the day of the accident, which is probably why he lost control of his car in the first place.
“Can you believe he’s been searching for her for years when she’s been under his nose all this time?” The PI laughed, then went on with a grandiose speech to show how smart he was in connecting the dots of the timelines they met. He even performed a secret DNA test by stealing Aspen’s toothbrush from one of the hotels she stayed at and using a sample from Gwyneth that King willingly gave him.
That’s what I was going to hold over his head and wouldn’t have hesitated to use so he’d stop trying to separate us. But it’s all null and void now that Gwyneth knows.
“Right?” she repeats, staring at her father now. “Tell me it’s not true, Dad.”
“Angel…” He steps toward her, but the moment he reaches for her, she jerks into my hold.
He pauses, flicking his lighter on and off, but it’s not in the slow, steady pace that he’s used to. He’s doing it as manically as her nail-clinking.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Gwyneth shakes her head slowly. “She can’t be my mother; she’s only thirty-five. When did she even have me?”
“I was fourteen when I found out I was pregnant,” Aspen says quietly, but for the first time in the years we’ve known each other, her voice shakes.
She’s not the type who shows her emotions. Like me, she doesn’t even get emotional. That’s why we got close in the first place.
Right now, though, her put-together front and aloofness are gone. Maybe that’s been a façade, too, just like with me, because she’s crossing her arms over her chest to stop them from trembling.
Like Gwyneth does sometimes. Now, that I know they’re mother and daughter, I can see the similarities. She has her nose and a darker shade of her hair.
And that heterochromia? It’s a mixture of King’s blue-gray eyes and Aspen’s hazel ones.
“You should’ve left your age in the note when you threw me in front of Dad’s house then. That way, I wouldn’t have felt abandoned by the woman who gave birth to me.” There’s so much venom in her voice that she trembles with it.
Aspen jolts, but instead of stepping backward, she starts toward us. “Let me explain.”
“No, no, no! You had twenty years for that. Twenty damn years of me crying on my birthdays because they remind me of the mother who threw me away on that same day.”
“Just hear me out. Five minutes, no, three is enough.”
King blocks Aspen’s way. “She said she doesn’t want to talk to you. So fucking disappear.”
“You shut up, shut up! You ruined my life, you fucking asshole, and you don’t even remember it, so don’t stand there thinking you’re better than me. You’re not.”
“Oh, I don’t just think I’m better than you, I am. It’s a fucking fact. I didn’t throw away a few hours old baby in the cold, not caring whether she lived or died. I raised her, I took care of her. I became both her father and mother when you were living your life with not a care in the world. So go back to that life and leave us the fuck alone. You vanished once. Surely you can do it again.”
“I didn’t vanish. And who the hell are you to judge me? Were you there when I carried her in my womb when I was a fucking kid? When I couldn’t sleep at night, terrified something would happen to her?”
“No, but I was there for the following twenty years when you fucking weren’t, witch. And I will continue to be there when you’re gone.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes, you will.”
“You can’t make me, Kingsley.”
“Fucking watch me.”
Tears are streaming down Gwyneth’s cheeks and I wipe them with my thumb. The more she watches them arguing and on the verge of hitting each other, the harder she cries.
I’m used to this from them—not to this violent extent, but similar. Gwyneth isn’t.
“Stop,” I grind out, making them shut up as I hold Gwyneth tighter. “Stop being fucking selfish, this isn’t about either of you. It’s about her.”
“Angel, you don’t have to worry.” King takes her hand in his. “I’m going to make sure the board removes her from the firm, then she’ll disappear like she never existed.”
“There’s no reason for the board to remove me, and I swear to God, Kingsley, if you try any underhanded methods, I’ll sue you and take away your money. Oh, also, even if I’m out of W&S, I won’t leave the city.”
“Don’t listen to her, Angel. I’ll definitely get rid of her and we’ll go back to being the two of us.”
“No, Dad. No. I can’t just forget she exists because you tell me to. I have feelings and there are many of them. I can’t just erase them or pretend they’re nonexistent like you do.”
“Gwyneth…” Aspen stands beside King. “I…”
“This doesn’t mean I want to talk to you. Not after you abandoned me.”
“I didn’t. I would never do that.”
“All these years would testify otherwise”
“I thought you were dead!” Aspen cuts her off, her voice breaking before she inhales a sharp breath. “They put a dead baby in my hands and said she was mine. They…told me she didn’t survive childbirth and I thought…I thought that was you. All this time, I was mourning you.”
“Then how did I end up in front of Dad’s house?”
“It was my uncle and his wife. They wanted me to get rid of you since they found out I was pregnant, but it was too late at the time and no clinic would do it. They abused me, hit me, pushed me down the stairs, and kicked me all the time so you’d die. But you didn’t; you were a fighter. Until you weren’t, or so I thought. For twenty years, I believed you died because I couldn’t protect you properly. Because I was so young and clueless and didn’t know how to keep you safe.”
Gwyneth sniffles as if she could feel the pain behind Aspen’s words. She’s an empath that way, so even though she hates her, she can still allow her emotions to seep inside her. After a moment, she murmurs, “Why didn’t you go to Dad?”
Aspen scoffs and glares at him. “We didn’t know each other.”
“Jesus Christ.” King runs a hand over his face.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Gwyneth asks, and when he avoids her gaze, she squeezes his hand. “Dad, tell me. Don’t hide anything from me.”
“I don’t remember her and she doesn’t remember me. The night…we conceived you, I was drunk as fuck and so was she. It was dark and messy, and I have barely any recollections of it or her, except for waking up in my friend’s house and knowing that I’d had sex.”
“I went to a party with a friend,” Aspen continues. “And I didn’t know my own tolerance, so I drank more than I should’ve. I remember this jock coming to me and we talked. He said he was seventeen and I lied and told him that I was sixteen, and then we were drinking together and…that’s it. I really don’t have much recollection of him or that night. I remember leaving while it was dark because I had exams the following day, and I was still a little tipsy.”
“Nine months later, you showed up at my door, Angel.”
“But how?” Gwyneth stares at Aspen. “I thought you said you didn’t remember my dad.”
“I didn’t. I tried to find him when I realized I was pregnant, mainly to protect you from my aunt and uncle, but I had nothing to do with it. My aunt and uncle must’ve dug deeper and gone asking around about the night of the party, because they clearly planned to leave you with Kingsley. You have to believe me, I would’ve never…never left you like that if I’d had a choice.”
“But you did leave me.” Gwyneth wipes her eyes. “I spent twenty years without a mother and that can’t just be erased simply because you’re back in the picture again.”
Aspen’s shoulders hunch and King doesn’t hide his sadistic smile.
“I…want to be alone.” Gwyneth strokes my hand and I slowly let her go.
She doesn’t look at any of us as she jogs to her car.
Everything in me screams to follow her, but I don’t, not yet at least, because I need to talk some fucking sense into these two idiots first.
King flicks his Zippo open, then closed. “Go to Seattle and take the witch with you, Nate. You two can continue your fuck buddy relationship and leave me and my daughter in peace. Incidentally, you fucked both mother and daughter, you sick motherfucker.”
Before I can punch him, Aspen raises her hand and slaps him across the face, hard. So hard that he reels back from it.
She’s about to continue, but I pull her back by the arm, pining for patience myself. “You need to watch your fucking mouth, King. Aspen and I never had sex.”
He runs a hand over the cheek that she slapped but smiles in his manic fucking way. “You’ll pay for that.”
She struggles against me and points a finger at him. “I’m not leaving.”
“She doesn’t want you. No one does.”
“Maybe you’re talking about yourself, Kingsley. Your daughter doesn’t respect you anymore and you already lost your best friend. Congratulations for winning the shitty person of the year award.” And with that, she leaves.
“I’m going to fucking break her,” he says in a low, dark tone.
“Leave her alone.”
“What? Protective of your fuck buddy?”
“I told you we never had sex. And you need to bring down the psychosis a notch if you don’t want things to get uglier. Aspen is Gwyneth’s mother whether you like it or not. The decision to have a relationship or stay as acquaintances is only up to them. Stay the hell out of it.”
“Or what?”
“Or you’ll lose Gwyneth. She’s already scared of you because of me. Stop micromanaging her, stop being the boss of her, just stop all the crazy and save it for when you deal with Susan. Don’t make your daughter lose all respect for you, motherfucker.”
He flicks his lighter open, then closed, and I don’t like the expression on his face one bit. “Do you still care about Gwen?”
“I never stopped.”
“Good. In that case, you’ll do something for me.”
