Page 68 of Just Say Yes

I still couldn’t believe she was openly discussing her husband’s long-standing affair in front of her children, and they didn’t seem upset about it in the least.

My brows dipped down. “But you defended him—on television I saw you hold those press conferences and deny everything.”

Her pitying glance was grating. “It’s important for my girls, and the Peake name, to keep negative press to a minimum.”

Question upon question zinged through my mind. One in particular kept getting stuck and I had to know: “Did you know my aunt Bug? Was she at your wedding?”

A flicker of confusion crossed Elizabeth’s face. “Oh, no. Russell hadn’t spoken to his sister Ruth Anne since they were young adults. If Russell chose to distance himself, I assumed it must have been for good reason.”

Elizabeth may have been under the impression that she and her husband had a perfect, open relationship, but he had been keeping secrets from her too.

He made it so Bug could raise his children while he lived a double life. Elizabeth had no idea what he had been capable of.

Frederick broke through the rising tension when he entered with a white marble-topped cart containing a steaming teapot and several cups and saucers. A small porcelain box, also white, held a variety of teas to choose from.

I selected a sachet of peppermint tea as Frederick poured the hot water into my cup.

“It’s so interesting to finally meet you.” Blair sat on the sofa next to me, her eyes roaming over my face. “You really do kind of look like us ... a little bit in the nose. The hair color, for sure.”

I toyed with the ends of my hair. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“It’s still so sad to think he’s really gone.” Bianca’s voice was laced with genuine grief as she fought back tears. She grabbed a framed photograph from the mantel of the fireplace and walked toward us.

Did they know the truth? Did they understand that he was killed in prison, in part, because of what he had done to my mother?

He had openly admitted that, years ago, my mother had planned to leave him and take us with her, so he had killed her—choked the life out of her and deposited her body in Wabash Lake.

In many ways, he had led each of us to believe that she had abandoned us because we were unlovable.

And yet these women mourned him.

I looked at the frame Bianca held out for me. My father’s face was lifted with a wide smile. He was much younger. He looked happy. It was an action shot—him running behind a little brunette girl riding a bicycle down a tree-lined street.

Tears stung my eyes. Blair noticed and her hand gripped mine. “We miss him too.”

They didn’t understand at all why I was near tears.

I didn’t have a clue who the man in the photograph was. I certainly didn’t know a father who laughed and ran beside me while I learned to ride a bike.

JP had done that.

These people didn’t know the real him at all—only the role he played to keep Elizabeth and her father happy. They were blissfully unaware of the irreparable damage he’d caused my siblings and me.

They spoke ofDaddylike he was their North Star, guiding them through a charmed life. But for me and my siblings, he’d been a shadow we couldn’t escape, casting darkness over every attempt to grow.

The air inside that house was thick and choking. So many unanswered questions swirled in my brain, but I couldn’t get past the image of my father—their father—being the kind of man who made happy memories with his children.

I had been so curious about his other family. A small part of me assumed I would have someone else who understood what it was like to have a father like mine. I never expectedthis. I was a fool to think that what I felt for them was connection. They were nothing at all like me.

I’d spent years wondering what kind of man my father could have been if he’d chosen differently—if he’d been a better father, a better husband. Meeting Elizabeth and her daughters confirmed what I’d always feared. He had been capable of love and joy ... just not with us.

Every word, every smile, every glance, chipped away at the fragile image I’d built of him in my mind. I’d come here hoping for answers, but all I’d found were more questions—and the sickening realization that he’d been everything we feared he was and more.

The teacup trembled in my hands, the fine porcelain thinner than I’d expected. It felt like one wrong move could shatter it, much like the image of my father that had already begun to crumble.

Without bothering to take a sip of my tea, I set the cup and saucer to the side and rose. “I’m sorry, but I really should get going.”

“Oh, but you just got here.” Bianca’s face creased with concern.

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