Page 57 of Connor

Now, when the damage was already done?

Now, when Aiden and I were already too fucked up to ever be whole again?

I wanted to be happy for her. I really did. But all I felt was fury. Fury at her for waiting this long. Fury at my father for making her believe she had no other choice. Fury at myself for still giving a shit when I should’ve cut them both off years ago.

The house came into view, as I pulled up to the curb, heart pounding in my ears. There were two cop cars parked outside, red and blue lights flashing in the dark, bathing the neighborhood in an eerie glow. My stomach twisted.

I barely threw the car in park before I was out, slamming the door behind me. The night air was cold, but I barely felt it.

Aiden was standing near the porch, arms crossed, his face a mask of tension. He turned at the sound of my footsteps, his dark eyes locking onto mine.

“Where is he?” I asked, my voice tight, sharp.

Aiden ran a hand over his short beard. “Gone.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Gone where?”

Aiden’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Jail.”

I blinked, barely processing the word. “What?”

“The cops picked him up about an hour ago. Mom pressed charges.”

For a second, I just stood there, the words bouncing around in my head like I couldn’t make sense of them. Mom pressed charges.

She’d gone through hell with him. Stood by him through every drunken rage, every slammed door, every ugly fucking night he let his fists do the talking. And now—she’d finally done something about it?

A bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat, sharp and humorless. “She actually did it?”

Aiden’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

I shook my head, dragging a hand over my face. This was—fuck. I didn’t even know what this was. My father, in jail? That bastard had gotten away with everything for so long, it had felt like some unspoken rule of the universe that he’d never actually face consequences.

And now he was gone.

For a second, I let myself feel something like relief. Then the weight of everything crashed back down on me.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice lower now.

“She showed up, told him she wanted a divorce. He lost his shit. Guess he started screaming, throwing shit. A neighbor heard and called the cops before it got worse. They got there just in time.” His eyes flicked up to meet mine. “Connor, he had a fucking knife.”

My stomach dropped.

A knife.

Of course he did.

My father had never been the type to just let things go.

Aiden must’ve seen the look on my face because he shook his head.

“It’s done,” he said firmly. “He’s gone, and she’s pressing charges this time.”

I laughed again, the sound grating. “Yeah? And how long do you think that’s gonna last? How long before she changes her mind and takes him back again?”

Aiden’s expression darkened. “She won’t.”

I scoffed. “You sure about that?”

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