Page 55 of Sin Wagon
“Nothing is going on,” Mom insists, though her tone suggests otherwise. “I just want to make a good impression and make sure he knows he’s welcome. We’ve never had an interim COO before, and I want him to feel like he's part of the family.”
Jonas and I exchange a glance, both of us sensing there’s more to this dinner invitation than meets the eye.
“Okay, Mom,” I agree, deciding to play along for now. “Text us the address, and we’ll get cleaned up at my place and head over.”
“Thank you, son. See you soon,” she replies before ending the call.
“What do you think that’s about?“ I ask, my brow furrowing.
“No idea,” he admits, shaking his head. “She was acting weird, but maybe she just wants to introduce this new guy properly.”
“Maybe,” I agree, though doubt lingers in my mind. “Let’s head to my place, shower, and change. We’ll find out soon enough.”
I don’t know what game Mom’s playing, but as we drive through the familiar streets of Chicago, I can’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.
As we pullinto my driveway, the comforting sight of my house brings a sense of momentary relief. Inside, the faint smell of Lysol and the soft hum of the refrigerator greet us.
Jonas heads straight for the guest room to freshen up while I make a beeline for my bedroom.
Stripping off my travel-worn clothes, I step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the stress and grime of the past few days. I close my eyes, thinking back to the first time I met Delilah. She was working at Hidden Gems in Vegas; her energy was infectious. It feels like a lifetime ago.
I remember how she laughed at my terrible jokes and her eyes lit up when she talked about her marketing goals. She was everything I didn’t know I was looking for. And now, I’ve let her down in the worst way possible.
How do I fix this? How do I prove that I can be the man she needs me to be?
After the shower, I dress in a fresh shirt and jeans, running a hand through my damp hair. I find Jonas in the living room, scrolling on his phone. He looks up as I enter, a question in his eyes.
“You ready?” I ask.
He nods, pocketing his phone. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
The drive to the address Mom sent us is a journey through the residential streets of the Chicago neighborhoods. The housewe’re heading to is in a quieter part of town, not far from my place.
When we arrive, the house is surprisingly modest—a townhouse with a neat lawn and a welcoming porch. Mom’s car is already parked in the driveway.
We exchange a glance before heading up to the porch. The wooden steps creak slightly under our weight as we approach the door. I reach out, my hand hesitating for just a moment before I knock. The sound echoes through the quiet neighborhood, and we wait, anticipation of why we’re here building.
Then, the door swings open, and there she is—my little doe, Delilah. Her smile is radiant, and my heart races, my stomach somersaulting with nerves at the sight of her.
Chapter 26
WELLS
I stand there, my mind racing as I take in the sight before me. Delilah is here, right in front of me, and I can’t quite believe it. My heart swells with joy and disbelief. Mom must have orchestrated this incredible surprise.
“Are you two gonna stand there staring, or you gonna come in?” Her voice breaks the spell, grounding me in the moment.
Jonas moves first, wrapping his arms around Delilah. “I’m so happy you’re here. I regret everything I said in Florida and I’m truly sorry. I was an asshole. A terrible father. I was in shock, no excuse, but I promise I’ll be better.” His voice trembles with sincerity.
Delilah laughs. “It was a lot to take in. We’re okay.”
Jonas steps back, his eyes lingering on her before turning to me. “I’m going to go find Mom. You two have some talking to do.” With that, he disappears into the house, leaving me alone on the porch with Delilah.
I’m struck by a sudden wave of nervousness, unsure of what to say. She looks at me expectantly, her eyes searching mine. I blurt out the first words that come to mind. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? For forgetting I existed again for the last few weeks? Or for promising you’d be there for the baby, which was a lie.”
“It wasn’t a lie.” The words feel inadequate, but they’re all I have.
