Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ainsley

Dad doesn't just tell me how he met Papa. Nope. He begins his story all the way back to when he became a model and an actor. The women he dated, how he met Papa while filming a movie and they became friends. It's sweet to listen to how they fell in love. Slowly.

They have the most epic love story.

We're just in the middle of his first date with Abbie, some celebrity he met during one of the movies, when the door of the library opens with a big thunk as it slams into the wall.

Tall, long dark-blond hair almost reaching his shoulders, blue eyes, and a need to kill someone.

Jacob.

He and Matt are the spitting images of Gabe, but their attitude is all Chris.

"What the fuck, old man?" he barks.

I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "Jacob, have a little respect."

He glares at me. "Sorry, princess. Did you miss the fucking pregnant woman when you arrived? Because, believe me, she is real ."

As he steps closer, I notice his nostrils flaring.

"When you called earlier, I thought this was yet another one of his stunts." He points at Dad, then me. "You blowing things out of proportion and the beginning of another nuclear war between Gabriel and you, which we came to stop because we can't afford more drama."

He narrows his gaze at Dad. "Not that I know much about pregnancies, but she's what six, seven months pregnant… that's more than three months. You fucking cheater."

I stiffen. My mouth opens slightly as I stare at my father. "You wouldn't, would you, Dad? All those women… you always said they were just friends."

He stares at the floor for several seconds.

"Six fucking months." Matt enters the library and gives a hard stare at our father.

He's fuming.

"I can't believe you. I lost the little respect I had left for you. You swore you loved him, but you just couldn't make things work out. How could you make it work when you already had a woman waiting for you? This fucking hurts." Matt rubs his chest.

"Dad?" I don't know what I'm trying to ask with that word.

Did he cheat? Are… what happened?

Dad stands up, closes the door, and locks it. "Nikki is the niece of an old friend."

"She's our age," Matt growls. "This friend is pimping her to old, rich assholes?"

"No. I met Nikki a couple of weeks ago," Dad says, leaning against the door. "He… he needed a favor. It's a publicity stunt. I'm taking the heat while they figure out what to do next. It means free publicity for my next movie. We both win."

I scoff. "I can't believe it. You'll never change. It's still the same shit, just a different woman."

"She's not my woman, and I'm not the father," he clarifies, as if that makes everything better.

That's not the problem. He continues making his career the most important thing.

He looks at me pleadingly. "Give me a few hours, and she'll be taken care of. Now that you're up to date on that issue, I hope you can forgive yet another bad publicity stunt. Can I offer you something?"

It's like he's sweeping the issue under the rug as if it doesn't matter. I want to say something, but my stomach growls, and I realize that I haven't eaten since this morning. "If you don't mind, I could use something to eat."

"We got it," Matt and Jacob say as they leave the room.

"Pump?" Dad inquires.

I point at my hip. "It's running just fine."

When Matt steps in with a glass of orange juice, he says, "That was… awkward."

Jacob hands me a bowl of popcorn. "Dad's indiscretion tried to kick us out of the house."

Matt glances at Dad. "Does the favor include marrying her?"

"No. It was… a stupid decision on my part."

You think . I laugh because that's exactly what Mattie says out loud, "You think?"

"This is how I've been handling my career since… well, forever. If I need to fix something, we create an illusion through tabloids. It's easy."

"Like what you did with Porter?" Jacob asks, and it sounds like an instigation. "Remember, four years ago when he was dating Sky."

My lungs deflate. "What does that mean?"

Jacob shrugs. "Someone might want to give her the facts, including who came up with the brilliant idea, Dad." He looks at me. "And you, while we're playing truth or dare, let's hear your truth."

Jacob's comment and how he drags out the last word make me focus on my father. His skin is turning a shade of red. My cheeks heat up while my heart accelerates with a bad case of nerves about telling Dad the truth and anger because there's more to the story about those magazines. What's the story behind it?

My parents and brothers know more. I could think of a few things.

One: My pseudo-boyfriend had been hiding the girlfriend for a long time, and someone finally caught them. My parents knew about her.

Two: They both needed some free publicity, and it sounded like a perfect idea to have them start a relationship, or… it was a hoax to… what?

I know Jacob, Matt, and I have avoided discussing our parents and Porter since… well, since the big fight. They knew more, but I didn't want to hear it. I wanted the chapter closed—but it never did. It's open, painful, and raw.

It fucking hurts just to think about it.

I hold onto the edge of the couch. "What is he talking about, Dad?"

"He meddled with his daughter's relationship," Jacob says.

He runs a hand through his hair and exhales harshly. "We heard that you two were ‘kind of getting close,' Porter's words." He tilts his head and leans his body against the wall opposite me. "We didn't think he was the right guy for you, sweetie."

"Kind of getting close?" I squeak and blink my eyes rapidly as I try to assimilate what he just said.

Just kind of close? It was serious.

We lived together for a couple of years. Had dated since I was sixteen. I should give him my version, but is it even worth it?

"What is he talking about, Dad? You tried to sabotage my relationship with Porter?" Not that they had to do much. Porter fucked it up—and me—all on his own.

"We knew what was best for you, Ainsley." Dad rakes a hand through his hair. "Trust me on that one."

But I don't trust them one bit. If they had taken a little time to find out more about me. If they had paid more attention, they would've learned what happened to me. There was no use in telling him about the what ifs when things had already happened.

"The night I visited…"

I clear my throat. "That magazine on top of the dining table of your house was…" I'm having trouble breathing.

"Take your time," Jacob says.

I stand up and walk toward the big windows, hoping the big ocean swallows me as I learn my parents had a hand in those pictures. "It was a stab at my already wounded heart, Dad. Looking at that, it felt as if…" … everything Porter and I had, had been a bunch of lies. My already wounded heart wilted.

I turn around to face him.

"I can't believe that you helped him construct those lies to push me away. Not that he needed them… Those were the same lies I lived with while growing up." My voice loses momentum and force.

"It was for the best," Dad insists.

His statement ignites my anger. "You have no idea what was best for me. Not before, not that night—or after. Using those publicity stunts to shield us never worked. You only hurt us more."

He had already fucked me up, there was no need to pretend that he wasn't available, but I don't say the last part.

"Ainsley, they were just magazines."

"Do you have any idea what happened when I saw them? And then… you wanted me to behave after everything that had happened to me."

The pain is overtaking my body, and I have no idea how much longer I'll be able to remain standing.

Where is Mason? I need him to pick me up and take me away from this nightmare. My limbs feel light, my head dizzy, and I am numb.

"You're not making sense. I don't understand what the pictures, Porter, and that night have to do with your nervous breakdown."

I laugh. It's a maniacal laugh that I can't contain. Matt hands me the orange juice I didn't finish.

"You don't have to do this," he says.

But maybe I do, because even though it's been four years, it still hurts so much I'm having trouble breathing.

"I needed my parents," I blurt out. "You have no idea how much I needed you that day and the days before that fateful night. That's why I went to see you. All that stuff just made the pain worse. The tabloids and the hidden truth drove me insane. He knew I was in a bad place. Why did he do it? I bet he never told you the truth."

A heavy sigh leaves my body, and the pain in the center of it increases.

"Those pictures were at your house." I lift my gaze to Dad. "In fact, he was there too. That night, I lost everything. Porter didn't say a thing to you. He remained quiet, afraid to lose your love and his fucking career. He let you think I was crazy. I was lost and hurt and… What's wrong with you, with him?"

"What was he supposed to tell me, Ainsley Janine?" Dad raises his voice.

I shake my head because there's no use in continuing.

"Ainsley?"

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore." I wave my hand.

My brothers stare at me, then look back at Dad, and thankfully neither one says a word.

I point to Dad. "I should be mad at you for playing God with my life. For years we lived in the middle of nowhere with so many lies entwined together, serving as our protective dome. In the end, you didn't protect anyone. Even your marriage broke. I hope being a celebrity is everything you always wanted."

Dad lowers his head and shakes his head.

"I can't believe it," I tell Dad, taking a few steps toward him.

Enraged with my father and swimming in adrenaline, I find the strength to continue and confront him. Some light dawns on me. He betrayed us.

"You chose your career, too, didn't you?" I point an accusatory finger.

Fire ignites my voice and keeps my body steady. "That's why you said earlier that love isn't enough. The perfect love, the three children, the home you built isn't as important, is it? Was it mutual, or did you get an ultimatum and choose to leave? That's your pattern, Dad, choosing fame. Have you listened to your story?"

"I like what I do," he responds. "That's who I am, Ainse. I'm not even sixty. Why should I retire?"

"Retiring?" I stare at him dumbfounded. "Stopping that fake publicity doesn't mean retirement. Come on, you have a production company. You can write, direct, and produce your own shit, and do what you love without hurting the ones who love you."

Dad's brows draw closer. His face tightens, and his blue eyes avoid contact with mine.

"You two are so alike." I head to the door, not knowing where or how to deal with this for the moment. "Porter and you, Dad. Your priorities are screwed up when it comes to family, to the ones you claim to love. Our stories ended the same way—yours and mine. A selfish bastard decided that his career mattered the most."

My tone becomes a flat line. I have no more energy for this, for him. "In this case, that'd be you."

"Ainsley, don't you dare talk to me like that," he says. "I'm your father."

"No, Gabriel. We already established that we're not related. And this new you… Where is the man who raised me?" I turn to my brothers. "Sorry, I tried.You can keep being neutral, Switzerland, whatever. I can't deal with them. Or maybe it's just him. I'm heading home to find out the other side of the story."

Jacob surprises me by standing up and getting in Dad's face.

"Is she right? Did you take off because you chose your career?"

Dad closes his eyes and bows his head. We march out of his office, and within seconds, we hear a thunk sound.

When we turn around, Dad is on the floor, unconscious.

"Matt, call 9-1-1," Jacob orders. "I'm calling Arthur. Ainse, call Papa."

"Ainsley?" Papa answers.

"Dad. It's Dad," I say, trying to control the panic.

"What's happening?"

"The ambulance should be here soon," Matt says.

"Ainse, talk to me."

"Dad, I came to confront him, and after we fought… I don't know what happened to him. He's on the floor, unconscious."

"Motherfucker, he better not die, damn it." His wounded animal growl reminded me of a wolf on a night of the full moon howling for his mate. "He'll be fine. We'll hire the best doctors. We're not losing him. Call me when you know more, please."