Page 62 of Second Dance
Peter blinked, then went very still. “Did he … did he talk to her?”
I laughed without humor. “He shouted to her. In front of everyone.” My throat closed for a moment but I forced it open. “He made a huge scene in front of the whole crowd. He told her I never legally adopted her.”
Peter’s mouth opened and then shut. He looked at the empty doorway, like he could see through it to where his sister had run. “You didn’t? How come?”
“It wasn’t from lack of trying. Regardless, I should have told you both sooner.” The admission tasted like blood and salt. “When I married your mom, we started the adoption process. We did. We hired an attorney, drew up papers. But Darren was gone. No address. The letters came back. Your mom didn’t have a forwarding contact for him. No one seemed to know wherehe was. We tried everything we could think of. Hired a private investigator four times. We checked DMV records, county voter rolls, old job listings, distant relatives. The PI tracked a few false leads and a couple of arrests out of county, nothing that stuck. Without his consent, the adoption stalled. And I—” My voice thinned to a thread. “I told myself it didn’t matter because he was gone and didn’t want to be found. And I was here.”
Peter’s jaw clenched hard enough to lift the muscles in his cheeks. “That’s right. He left us. He never wanted us. He just wants money.”
“I know,” I said. “I know.”
“Then why does the paper matter?” His fists were two tight knots on the island.
“Because the legal system is there for a reason,” Gillian said softly. “Usually to keep men like Darren from continuing to hurt his children.”
Peter’s eyes flicked to her, then back to me. “He said it in front of everyone?”
“He humiliated us both. And I made it worse.” I could still feel my knuckles connecting with Darren’s buddy’s cartilage—the immediate, foolish satisfaction, the horrible, sinking after. “I lost my temper.”
Peter swallowed. “What did you do?”
“I got physical,” I said.
“Oh, Dad.”
I covered my eyes with my hands for a moment, shame washing over me. This was not the example I wanted to present to my son. “I’m not proud of it.”
Footsteps pounded on the stairs. Sonya reappeared, breathing hard, phone in hand, with Bella right behind her. “SeñorAlex, you need to see this.”
“The video’s going viral.” Bella’s hair was scraped into a messy knot and her eyes were swollen and red. She looked soyoung, so vulnerable as she perched on the far stool, arms locked around herself, the way she used to sit when her legs didn’t reach the floor.
Sonya set her phone on the island and hit play. The video jolted to life. It showed Darren first, arms spread wide, sneering like he owned the world. The caption under the clip made my stomach twist. Stepdad loses it! #FamilyDrama.
The camera wobbled as it swung my way. I saw Gillian with her shoulders squared, voice sharp. “Stop filming. It’s illegal to film children.” Then the lurch of the phone as she reached for it, then the sickening angle when she hit the ground.
My fists clenched even though I already knew what came next.
There it was—me, storming into the frame. A blur of movement, the crack of my knuckles connecting with Greasy’s jaw. From this angle, I didn’t look protective. I looked wild. Dangerous. Exactly what Darren wanted.
And then Darren himself came charging into view, his voice ringing clearer than anything else on the video: “He never adopted you legally. You can come live with me.”
The last thing the camera caught was Bella’s face—frozen, eyes huge. “What?”
Peter exhaled an ugly, quiet sound. “This thing has a hundred thousand views already.”
“This can’t be happening.” Bella sobbed, clutching her midsection as if she might be sick.
A muscle pulsed in my bruised cheek. I stopped the video, wanting to hurl Sonya’s phone into the wall, but refrained. “I can’t believe he would do this. I truly can’t.” Nearing tears myself, I looked over at Sonya and then Gillian, desperate for answers.
“Everyone saw it at the game, and now it’s all over the internet,” Bella said. “I’ll have to quit the team.”
“It’s going to be all right,” Gillian said softly, drawing closer to Bella but not touching her. “Your dad will fix it.”
“It’s not you who looks bad, love,” Sonya said. “That idiot and his friend are the ones who are to blame. The way he provoked your father. It’s not right.”
“How did he even know about the game?” I asked, scrambling for footing. Anything to hold onto until I could figure out what to do next.
“I posted about the game on my Instagram,” Bella said in a quiet, miserable sounding voice. “Like an idiot.”
