Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)

The irony was that I was about to give him that same news again.

But this time I hoped it would bring them together instead of tear them apart. Lily’s relationship with Adam would suffer, or disintegrate completely, if he didn’t know I was out of the picture. If I had any hope of making my life and the lives of those around me better, I had to own up to my mistakes, no matter how difficult that would be.

Surprisingly, as I waited for Adam to get home from work and a light snow began to fall, I had no reservations about my decision to talk to him. It was the right thing to do. And I so rarely did what was right.

At just after five, through my snow-speckled windshield, I saw Adam’s SUV pull in. As he made his way to the end of the driveway toward the mailbox, I exited my car, careful to maintain the distance between us. I had already interfered in his life, and I didn’t want to intrude any more than necessary by stepping onto his property.

“Adam,” I said, my voice even and steady as I stood on the sidewalk. Through the darkness, I could see him turn to face me, but I knew he didn’t recognize the voice. “It’s Max.” I paused to see if he'd respond. When he didn’t, I continued. “I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute.”

As he took a few steps toward me, I couldn’t help but be thankful that my history as a hockey player would help me take a punch if Adam decided to throw one. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

He didn’t get close enough to hit me. Though his clenched fists were a good indication that he was probably fighting the urge to do so. I tried to read his expression through the darkness. His open posture, and the fact that he’d come toward me instead of immediately going inside, made me think that he might listen to what I had to say. But his eyes held anger. They had a right to.

And when he spoke, his voice held it too. “You’ve got some nerve coming here. To my house. When my daughter’s inside,” he said gesturing toward his home. “You just can’t stay out of my life, can you?”

Something told me Adam’s question was rhetorical, so I let it pass unanswered.

The soft snow that had coated the ground created a silence so obvious that it was, strangely enough, almost audible. Adam seemed to be making every effort to be quiet, probably so his daughter didn’t hear us. But despite the fact that he spoke each word in a whisper, I could tell he was screaming them inside. His lips barely moved as he spoke in a clear effort to restrain himself. “You’ve got two minutes to tell me why the fuck you’re here, asshole, before I beat your ass on my fucking front lawn.”

Since I’d gotten out of my car, my eyes hadn’t left Adam’s. It was almost as if we were two wild animals staring each other down to intimidate the other. I let my face soften before I spoke, allowing myself to be the first to back down for the first time in my life. I hoped that Adam would hear the sincerity I felt as I said the words. “I came here to tell you she’s yours.”





Chapter 21: Adam


“Mine? I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed your fucking permission to date someone.” I shook my head, keeping my eyes locked on his. Arrogant prick. “When was she yours to give away? Did I miss something?” I stepped closer, ready to make good on my promise of pummeling him in my yard. My eyes darted quickly toward a few of my neighbors’ houses as I wondered briefly if I could pull an Edward Norton, Jr. and curb this asshole without anyone noticing.

“Look, you have every reason to be upset. I—”

“I’m not ‘upset'. I . . . I don’t know what I am.” I could feel the anger building inside me as I ran my other hand through my hair, exasperated and unsure of what to do next. “You know . . . I don’t even know why I’m trying to explain my emotions to you. You deserve nothing.” My teeth clenched, and I suddenly found myself two inches from that douchebag’s face in an effort to keep my voice down. "You. . . you're . . . God, you're not even worth it," I growled as I waved my hand toward him dismissively.

“I’m not gonna argue with you about that. What happened was my fault. But I still want you to know why I did it.” Max’s initially guarded posture softened slightly, and it was clear he wouldn’t fight me even if I wanted him to, so for some reason—chalk it up to pure curiosity—I let him continue. “I loved her. We’re more alike than you think, Adam . . . me and you. I loved her. Just like you did. But she didn’t love me then and she doesn’t love me now. I know nothing I can say will make you change your opinion of me. But I was hoping,” he hesitated, “that it might make you change your opinion of her.”

“You don’t know shit about my opinion of her.”

“No? Well, I know you asked her not to see me anymore because you don’t trust her.”

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