Page 36 of Rough Daddy
I reach for the phone with shaking hands.
The first message stops my heart.
Ethan: Where are you? I needed you and you just disappeared.
The hurt in those words cuts deeper than any knife.
Ethan: You promised we'd stick together. You PROMISED. I kept calling, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Are you ever coming back?
I scroll through his messages with tears streaming down my face, watching days of my brother's pain unfold while I was lost in my perfect bubble of happiness.
Ethan: I thought you cared about me.
Ethan: Dad's drinking more. I thought he was going to hit me last night. Mom's worse. I have nobody.
Ethan: You said you'd always be there for me. But you left. Where did you even go?
Ethan: I guess I know where I stand now.
The phone slips from my hands, clattering against the wooden nightstand. I press my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but they keep coming.
He's just a kid, and I'm all he has. I promised him I would always be there for him. That no matter what happened to our family, we'd stick together.
And the first chance I got to be happy, I ran away and left him behind.
"Morning, princess."
Beau appears in the doorway carrying two mugs of coffee, and the sight of him makes my chest ache. Hair mussed from sleep, bare chest, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans. His dark beard is flecked with silver, and there’s nothing but love in those pale-blue eyes.
He's beautiful and protective and everything I've ever wanted.
And I'm about to lose him.
"You okay?" His eyes search my face, taking in my tears and the phone in my lap. "What the fuck’s wrong? Did I hurt you last night?"
"No. Just..." I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "Family stuff."
He sets the coffee on the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip. "Talk to me. You tell Daddy everything, no matter what."
The endearment makes something twist painfully in my chest. I want to tell him everything.
I want to fall into his arms and let him fix it all. But I can't. Not when Ethan is suffering because of my selfishness.
"I need to use your computer," I say instead, my voice cracking as I wipe away tears. "I need to figure some things out with... work stuff."
"Of course, baby. Password is ENGINE2024, all caps."
I slip out of bed, pulling his t-shirt down to cover myself, and pad barefoot to his office. My hands are shaking as I wake up his computer, trying to figure out how to book a flight back to New York. How to fix the mess I've made of everything.
But there's a folder on his desktop labeled "Research T" that makes my stomach clench.
I shouldn't click it. I should respect his privacy.
But something inside me ticks.
Maybe it's the way he never asks questions about my past. The way he accepts everything I tell him without pushing for details. The way he seemed completely unsurprised when that photographer approached me in town.
I open the folder.
