Page 42 of Hate to Love You

I might have walked in here dreading this meeting, but I’m happy we did this. I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn and agreed to sit down with him months ago to hash out our feelings. Not only have I been mourning the fact that my family is no longer together, but I’ve been grieving the loss of my dad. After he walked out the door, everything shifted between us.

But maybe now, moving forward, it can be different. Better. We can spend more time together. Next year, who knows where I’ll live and how often we’ll be able to see one another. It’s important that I get our relationship back on track now, while I can still repair it.

I’m still mad and hurt. I haven’t completely let go of my anger. But there’s nothing I can do about my parents’ marriage ending. I love them both. And that will never change no matter what.

Maybe that’s what I have to hang on to right now.

Dad forks off a hearty chunk of apple pie and takes a bite. Once he’s done, he says, “It means a lot to me that we’re moving forward, Nat.”

“I’m glad we are, too.” I’ve managed to plow my way through half the lava cake, which is rich, gooey, and utterly delicious.

Taking a breath, he fiddles around with his pie instead of digging in. Right away my antenna goes up. I can tell there’s more he wants to say.

Before he has a chance to speak, I cut in. “I’m sorry about freezing you out. I shouldn’t have done that.” I shrug helplessly. “I just felt so angry with you for leaving the way you did. For not trying to work it out.”

“I know,” he acknowledges gently. “And I understand. The separation has been hard on all of us, but especially you.”

I nod and take a deep breath. We’ve talked through a lot over dinner. But we haven’t discussed everything. We haven’t discussed her. As difficult as it is to think about, it’s a topic that needs to be forced into the light if we’re truly going to move forward with our relationship.

“Dad, I—”

At the same time, he says, “Nat, there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

My brows draw together as a woman materializes beside our table. “Huh?”

“This is Bridgette.” Dad shoots out of his chair and wraps an arm around her waist. She leans her body into his.

Thrown off by the interruption, my eyes bounce between Dad, who looks like he’s sweating bullets, and the curvy woman at his side.

“Hi, Natalie. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.” Her voice is deep and rich. Sultry.

I blink in confusion. “Hello.” Who is this woman? Why is she here at our table?

She beams a smile at Dad, who leans over and kisses her on the lips.

What the hell?

After they break apart, she lowers herself to the chair situated between us.

“Sweetheart,” Dad says nervously. “I hope you don’t mind that Bridgette stopped by to meet you.”

I don’t…

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

The chocolate cake I’ve just eaten feels like it’s going to revolt and make an encore appearance. I do my best to tamp down the rising nausea.

So, this is the homewrecking whore. I should have known. She’s got a sex kitten vibe to her. I narrow my eyes. There’s no way she’s more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old, and Dad is…

In his late forties.

She’s closer to my age than she is to his. She could be his daughter.

Ewww.

I’m totally grossed out.