“But . . . but . . . if you knew, you could’ve . . .”
He looked away, at the floor. “And then what, Arya? Nicholai would get disqualified, disbarred, and his story would come out. The story in which I ruined his life, detailed and time-stamped. It would have looked even worse for me. He was just another victim of mine. Amanda and the rest would have gotten another lawyer, and I’d still be found guilty. All paths led to the same destination. And it had to be said”—he grinned sardonically—“I appreciated his coming full circle. He did good, that kid. If I went down, I wanted to go down in style, and he delivered. It’s why I told Terrance and Louie not to file an appeal.”
“You wanted to ruin his life,” I repeated, dumbfounded. Even at our worst, the year following what he’d done to Nicky, I’d thought my father had anger-management problems, not that he was malicious. “Why?”
“Because he touched the only pure thing I had in my life,” he said simply. “You.”
“You can never tell anyone,” I warned, feeling every nerve in my body on fire as I took a step toward him. “You hear me? No one. Promise me. Promise.”
He stared at me intently. “You never stopped loving him, did you?”
No. Not even for a moment.
I stepped back, pulling myself together. But he knew. In that moment, he knew. He pressed his forehead to the doorframe. Behind him, I could see the apartment was only half-furnished. Someone must’ve taken most of the stuff out. I waited to feel the pinch in my heart, but the truth was, home had never been a place for me. It was a feeling. A feeling I’d only ever felt with my father before what had happened, and with Nicky.
“Will you ever forgive me?” His eyes were screwed shut as he spoke against the doorframe.
“No,” I said simply. “You took the one person I loved more than anyone else in the world, and you ruined him for me. You need to leave the city. It’s for the best.”
“I am.” He gave me a little nod. “Next week.”
I didn’t ask where to. I didn’t want to know. Didn’t trust myself not to contact him again.
“Goodbye, Dad.”
“Goodbye, honey. Stay safe and take care of your mother.”
“She is never going to answer me, is she?” I smashed my phone against my desk, barely containing my rage. “It’s absolutely like her to go MIA after the ship has sunk. Classic Beatrice Roth for you. I wonder what she’s going to do, now that she doesn’t have the penthouse and the funds. She’s too old to get a sugar daddy.”
Jillian eyed me over the edge of her teacup, her pointed look telling me I’d forgotten to tuck my crazy in this morning. I’d been told you stopped giving a crap about what others thought about you when you turned forty. Maybe I was an early bloomer, because I just didn’t care.
“Ever considered she might not want you to fix her problems this time?” Jillian suggested. “She knows that if she answered you, you’d go into damage control mode and fix it all. I mean, you always were the grown-up in that relationship.”
“I didn’t even have a relationship with her until a month and a half ago.” I stood up and began shoving items into my bag. It was half past seven, and I’d made Christian wait long enough outside my building. He came to see me every day now.
“Yes, that’s true, but my take is you’ve never had a relationship because you intimidated her and she disgusted you,” Jilly explained, walking over to the kitchenette to pour herself more tea. “So my guess is she’ll resurface when she is ready, and when she has a plan.”
“She’s never going to have a plan.” I flung my bag over my shoulder. “She’s been cruising through life, counting on my dad to fix all of her problems.”
Jillian smiled, adding a teaspoon of sugar to the antique teacup I’d gotten her for Easter at a thrift shop. The scent of peppermint filled the air. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“You sound like you know something I don’t.” I narrowed my eyes.
Jillian laughed. “I know lots of things you don’t. Let me start by pointing out the most important one—it’s not just your mother you are worried about. You are petrified of Christian, or Nicky, or whatever you want to call him today. You’ve been barricading yourself in the office every day until eight o’clock since you found out he was waiting for you each night.”
“It’s stalker behavior.” I stomped to the door to make a point. “I’m trying to discourage it.”
“You’re so deeply in love with the guy I’m embarrassed for your soul. Why aren’t you giving him a chance?”
How had we gotten from the subject of my mother to this? I rolled my eyes, plucking my lip gloss from my bag and reapplying it absentmindedly. “Because I’ll never trust the man again, so there’s really no point.”
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetie.” She came to pat my arm on her way back to her desk.
I frowned. “What are you doing here, anyway? At least I’ve had a reason to stay late these past few days, but you didn’t.” I paused. “Or did you?” I grinned.
Jillian got back to her seat, grabbed a hair clip, and tossed it in my direction. “Leave now!”
I dodged the hair clip, laughing. “What’s his name?”
“Out!”
I straightened back up. “Hmm. Out. That sounds cute and eccentric. Are his parents environmentalists? I don’t know, I like Woods or Leaf more.”
“I swear to God, Arya . . .” She waggled her finger at me. “By the way, you remember our meeting tomorrow, right? With the woman from Miami? Nine thirty?”
“Yes.” I made a face. “I’m still not sure how we can help her. Her business idea sounds solid, but she hasn’t even incorporated the company yet.”
Then I was out the door, giggling my way to another encounter with Nicky.
Only he wasn’t there.