I decide to do that as soon as I get home and finish the rest of my run in relative mental silence, tracking my way back down the gravel road to the chat dump and into my subdivision as the sun crests the horizon.
I arrive just in time to see Bob March charging up the steps to my house with a fat manila folder in his hand.
“Shit,” I curse. Quality time with Bob March is the last thing I need first thing in the morning. This is going to throw off my work out for the third time in the past week. Living with Aria and Felicity is proving great for the soul, but not so great for my fitness routine.
I slow to a jog, catching my breath in preparation for greeting my jackass of a father-in-law—who absolutely hates me like ass rabies, no doubt about it—when the door opens and Aria’s hand appears. A second later, she’s pulled her father inside and shut the door.
Huh.
Weird.
He hadn’t even knocked yet. It was like she was expecting him.
My jog becomes a walk.
Why would Aria ask her father to come over at six fifteen in the morning?
Better question, why hadn’t she told me Bob was coming over?
Unless…
I would usually still be on my run right now, if I hadn’t left early.
“Nope, don’t do it,” I say aloud, not wanting to start down this path. I trust Aria. She’s done nothing to earn a sharp eye from my suspicious side.
Until now.
The voice in my head is one part cop instinct, one part leftover hurt from the way things ended with Rachael. The cop part smells something fishy and wants to investigate; the hurt part doesn’t want to end up playing the fool again, this time with a woman I love so much I’m not sure I would survive her betrayal.
The two parts together are too strong to resist.
Instead of heading in through the front door, I circle around the garage into the backyard, thankful Aria and I decided to wait a few months before getting a dog for Felicity. There’s no animal barking, alerting people in the house to my presence.
Alerting your wife to your presence. Your wife, who you’re spying on like she’s a criminal all because she what? She wants to talk to her dad without you around, listening in?
It’s the decent part of my gut speaking up now, and it’s almost enough to make me turn around and head back to the front door. It would have been, I think, if Aria’s voice hadn’t drifted through the open kitchen window a beat later.
“You’re kidding, Daddy,” she says with obvious relief. “Oh, thank God. I take back what I said. You can call me at six o’clock in the morning anytime. I can’t believe this. It’s a miracle.”
Aria hadn’t known Bob was coming over.
The realization makes me feel better and worse. Better because she didn’t plan this, worse because I’m still here crouched by the house spying like a psycho.
“It’s no miracle.” Bob sounds pleased with himself, as usual. “It’s karma. I told you that rats leave trails, and Liam’s didn’t prove very hard to find.”
“So, what’s next?” Aria asks. “Do we send these over to him, or to his lawyer? Or what?”
“We’ll take the folder to your lawyer as soon as her office opens, and have her send it over, so it’s official. I wouldn’t be surprised if Liam drops his suit by close of business today. After that, we’ll put pressure on him to sign papers giving you sole physical and legal custody of Felicity from here on out.”
“Oh my god, that would be…” Aria’s breath rushes out. “That would be the best thing ever. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much.”
Her voice is muffled for a moment. I imagine Aria is probably hugging her dad, and I’m glad. I’m grateful to him for being a good father to her, even if he is a shit to me. And I’m grateful to him for keeping Felicity with us where she belongs.
“You and Felicity back home with us is all the thanks I need,” he says, souring my good will. “Now you’re free to be done with this joke marriage and get on with your life.”
My jaw clenches, my teeth grinding together as I wait for Aria’s response.
This is it, the moment that proves if what we have is real, or if she was using me all along.
“Daddy, I can’t,” she says, not sounding nearly as sure of that as I would like.
“You can, and you will.” A hard note creeps into Bob’s voice as he adds, “Especially if you want me to keep your secret from your mother. The detective I hired said you and Liam were never legally married, Aria Beth. There’s no record of that elopement you talked about ever taking place.”