Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Whatever,” Daddy said, rolling his eyes. “He came up to me to talk.”
“Really? What did he say?” I was somewhat surprised Wesley hadn’t reached out to me to talk at all. I didn’t know why, but I at least expected a few missed calls or long, well-written text messages. Yet it had been days, and not a whisper escaped him.
“He told me he was sorry for how much money I lost on the wedding and that he made his decision due to a lack of stability in your ability to filter your emotions and express real depth in a relationship.”
My jaw dropped.
Then again, yeah. That sounded like Wesley.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He took another bite of his sandwich and tossed a few chips into his mouth. “I punched him in the fucking nose.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. That was until I saw the seriousness in his eyes. “What?! No. Daddy, you didn’t!”
“Sure did. Got a nice cut on my knuckle from his big ole stupid nose that somehow cut me.”
My eyes all but fell out of my sockets as they bugged out. “Daddy! You really punched him?”
“One hundred percent. I guess you get my bad emotional filtering from me.”
The thought of my father punching Wesley was not something I saw happening, but I wasn’t entirely shocked by the idea. If there was one thing about Matthew Kingsley, it was his strong papa bear skills. He might’ve been an amazing construction worker with his own business, yet he always said his first and most important position in life was being a father.
Unfortunately, Wesley found out what mess-around-and-find-out actually meant.
“Dad,” I groaned. “Everyone in town is going to have a panic attack about you punching him.”
“I’m fine with being the gossip. I don’t care. And he shouldn’t have been speaking about you in such a way. Especially with that woman by his side.”
“A woman?” My stomach slightly knotted up. “Drew?”
“Yes. He said it was his best friend. What’s that about, huh? That’s weird.”
“What’s even weirder is they dated for a long time.”
“That’s why I hate men,” Dad exclaimed. “We’re idiots. He had the diamond of the ball and ended up with rusty nails. I never did like Trevor.”
“Wesley,” I corrected. Though it didn’t matter.
He brushed his hand against the back of his neck. “How’s my girl, though? You okay?”
“Yes. I’m good.”
“You’re lying?”
“Yes. I’m lying.”
He nodded. “Figured so.”
“I’m staying at Willow’s until I can find a place.”
“You’re both staying in Big Bird? That has to be cramped.”
I shook my head. “No, Willow headed off to…” My words faded off, realizing I was not supposed to tell Dad where Willow was.
His brows shot up. “Where is Willow?”
I pressed my lips together and shook my head.
“Avery Kingsley, tell me right now before I go find out from Yara and make her pregnant self cry.”
I sighed. “She’s going to Puerto Rico for a few weeks, then off to Europe. She said she’ll message you when she lands.”
“Puerto Rico?!” he gasped. “With who?”
“Good question,” I quipped.
He sighed. “If I had hair, they would all be gray because of you girls.”
I laughed and rubbed his bald head. “Luckily for you, you started balding in your thirties.”
He huffed. “Lucky me indeed. Remind me to kick Willow’s butt when she makes it back to Illinois.” He then grew somber again. “Avery?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Avery,” he repeated.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
My heart skipped a few times as tears burned at the back of my eyes. I nodded slowly. “I know, Dad.”
“You know, as a father, you’re learning as much as your kids are learning, too. And you figure out that each kid needs a little something different because they’re all individuals and unique. I think I love that most about you three girls—you all are so different from one another. But sometimes that makes it hard to know how I’m supposed to show up. If this whole situation happened with your sisters, I’d know what to do.”
“What would you do for Yara?”
“Let her cry on my shoulder while I researched becoming a hitman.”
“And Willow?”
“Go skydiving with her.”
“And me?”
“That’s the thing, you see…I’m not quite sure. That’s what bothers me the most. I think the issue is you’ve always been the strong one. The one who never seemed to need help, yet you were always helping others. And I think you hate the attention and people offering help because it makes you feel weak.”
“That’s true.”
“Yeah, but baby girl, asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Sometimes asking for help is the strongest thing a person could ever do.”
That was a concept I’d simmer on for a good amount of time.
“This is enough,” I offered, holding up half of my sandwich. “You showing up, Dad. That’s enough for me.”
He smiled, and I felt it kiss my soul. “That’s one thing I’ll do for forevermore, my love. I’m always gonna show up for you.”