Page 80 of Parrish

Another lost love.

“I know you’re probably feeling overwhelmed and the last thing I want to do is upset you any more than you already are,” she says.

Sucking in a breath, I bite my lower lip as I study the girl, watching as she steps further into the room.

“I’m sorry but—”

“You don’t remember me,” she says, cutting me off. I watch as she shrugs her shoulders and offers me a sad smile. “It’s okay,” she adds. “I’m your stepdaughter, Lacey.”

My eyes widen as I drink her in, trying to spot the resemblance to her father. The fact that Jack has a daughter is shocking alone but having an adult child—well, it’s a lot to process. Especially with our son being so young.

“How old are you?” I croak.

“Twenty-six,” she replies with a chuckle. As she takes a seat next to me, more questions fill my head and I begin to wonder how Jack and I met. Did he introduce me to his daughter early on or did he wait? Shit, does she even like me? What if the two of us don’t get along?

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

My brows knit together in confusion and I stare at her expectantly. That’s when I see the striking resemblance to her father. They have the same eyes and though she’s smiling at me, it doesn’t reach those dark irises. There’s pain there.

So much pain.

“I know you’re going through a lot,” she continues, diverting her gaze to her hands resting on her lap. “While I’ve never lost my memories before, I’ve struggled with piecing things together and it’s unbelievably frustrating,” she admits.

One hand moves to her stomach as she looks at me once again. I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t want to be offensive, but I don’t remember her. Like her father and brother, she’s a mystery to me. Someone who knows more about me than I do and that’s incredibly disheartening.

“He loves you,” she says softly. “My dad,” she clarifies. “He loves you more than anything in this world, Reina. I know you don’t remember him, and I also know at first glance, he may come off as this hard man, this unbelievably terrifying man but if you give him a chance, if you let him in, well, I promise there’s so much more to him. Beneath the torment lies a beating heart and that heart, it beats for you.”

A whirlwind of emotions engulfs me as she professes her father’s love for me. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to remember who I am now. I want to feel whole.

“How could I forget him?” I ask her, lifting my hands to my head. “How could I block out that love? I don’t even remember my son,” I whisper shamefully.

“You want the truth?”

“Of course,” I rasp.

“My father isn’t an easy man to love,” she confesses. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man. He’s honorable and loyal to a fault. He’ll give you the shirt off his back and if someone he loves needs him, he’ll walk barefoot on flaming hot coals to reach them. But, he’s difficult and I’m not sure how much of that is his fault or how much is beyond his control. I can tell you that because he’s my father and I adore him but also because I’m not an easy person to love either.”

Falling silent, she cocks her head to the side, seeming to weigh her next words.

“We’re both a little broken,” she whispers. “My father has made choices in his life that have had horrible repercussions. He’s suffered great loss and by the grace of God, he’s managed to overcome much of the things that plague him. But he’s not inhuman and everyone breaks at some point. Before your accident, my father started to break. He lost his grip on reality and all the years of beating the odds caught up to him.”

I have no idea what she’s referring to, but I find myself hanging on her every word.

“Is he sick?” I ask her.

“It’s not my place—”

“Is he sick?” I repeat.

“He’s a manic depressive,” she reveals. “After my little brother passed away, he was diagnosed and since then he’s been on medication to regulate him.”

I hold up my hand, stopping her from saying any more.

“Your brother.”

“My brother,” she confirms. “Junior was two when he struck by a car outside of our house. He died in my father’s arms.”

I should be shocked, but I’m not. Somewhere deep inside of me, I know this story. I know Jack lost a child just as I know he’s ill. Tears fall from the corners of my eyes as I tune Lacey out and close my eyes, trying to pull a memory from the fog filling my head.

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