Page 215 of The Perfect Wrong

I blink, still paralyzed by what’s happening.

“Dad? You—”

He still doesn’t say anything, he just circles around to his door and slides into the driver’s seat.

He’s about to shift the car in gear when Evie runs up, slamming her palms against his window. Her pea-green fingernails scratch the glass until he punches the button to lower it with a hefty sigh.

“Dickless asshole! Have you lost your shitting mind? What the hell iswrongwith you?” Her eyes flick to me. “Both of you!”

“I suggest you get out of the rain. Go check yourself in and stay as long as you need, Evie. I’ll still pay for your treatment as a parting gift. You may need it before you hear from my divorce lawyer.”

My heart stops.

For the first time since Chris went MIA, I crack a smile.

“Divorce? Oh my God, you’re—you’re making a huge mistake. I can’t believe you,” she hisses, fear and rage souring her face.

“I can,” Dad throws back. “And I shouldn’t have even given you the chance to show your true colors today. I know what you did.”

“What?” Her lips tremble and she staggers back a step.

Dad’s eyes are unwavering as he looks at her, bottomless sad depths.

“Landon Strauss gave me a letter from Chris. He left it with his boss before he went to Mexico. It told me he loves Delia so much he saved her life in Las Vegas, but that’s not the important part.” Dad pauses. “It said you tried to set him up years ago. You planted weed and called the police, trying to blame him. I didn’t want to believe it until I checked the reports—and I found them. That’s when I knew. You’ll do anything, all right. Anything it takes to twist me—to twist Cordelia—into your own warped goddamned image. And you’d better believe I’m not having it, Evie.”

For a second, she stares like a cornered animal, afraid and bristling.

“Do it. I fucking dare you!” she spits. “I’ll wring you out in court, little man. You’ll wish to God you’d listened to your lawyer and gotten a prenup. I’ll...I’llsqueezeevery drop of blood I can get. Then I’ll find every influencer your stupid airline employs and tell them all about your whore of a daughter, your spineless little tantrums. I’ll tell the entire board you’re a fucking mess, totally unfit to run a company that big. Bruce, if you cut me out, I swear to God I’ll—”

“You’ll be out of my life,” he clips. “And that’s all that matters.”

Then he floors it, the engine squealing.

Dad smiles like an entire mountain just lifted off him as the car darts away, doing a hard U-turn before we’re back on the road.

My last glimpse of Evie is watching her flail as the tires spray water up to her shoulders, ruining her outfit.

She stands there in full meltdown mode, soaking wet and stamping her feet, red-faced and screaming obscenities.

Holy crap.

What even was that?

And was he serious about the letter?

But I already know the answer. It sends my heart soaring, knowing that beautiful man tried to protect me even when he couldn’t be here physically.

It crashes back down a second later, knowing I may never get a chance to thank him.

When the sheer adrenaline wears off, we’re back in the city traffic, tooling along the misty streets.

We’re stopped at a long light when I reach for his hand.

“Is that really you, Dad? And why did we even come here today if you had this letter?”

He smiles softly. “I figured out who really needed help. I had the police reports confirming everything about a week ago. And Evie made the choice very, very easy when she showed me she cares more about her own selfish interests than you. I couldn’t have abandoned you, Cordelia, no matter how I might feel about Chris. I’m just sorry as hell it took me this long to figure it out.”

Nodding, I swallow thickly, pushing down the bitter lump in my throat so I don’t start blubbering all over again.

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