I placed a hand on his flannel-covered thigh and rubbed it soothingly. Dad’s eyes flicked immediately to where my hand rested on his leg, and I cursed myself for making such an obvious intimate gesture. But before I could remove my hand, Denton’s landed on top, holding it in place, solid and comforting.
“Clive,” Denton said as he squeezed my hand. “I love your daughter. I know that all this is probably a surprise, but—"
“Yeah, it’s alittle bitof a surprise,” Dad said angrily, cutting Denton off. “You’ve only been out here for a few weeks, so you’ve been sneaking around with her about as long as you’ve been here, I assume. Is that true?”
I sucked in a deep, wounded breath at the wordssneaking around, and a hot tear trickled down my cheek. Denton abandoned my hand and wrapped a warm, heavy arm around me.
“I’ll admit, it was fast and unexpected,” Denton started, not backing down from my father’s animosity, which was directed mostly at him. “But we weren’t sneaking around. We wanted to keep our relationshipprivatefor a while, and I wish you hadn’t found out like this. We were going to tell you soon.”
Dad huffed a furious breath. “Don’t bullshit me, Denton.”
Then his eyes landed on me, and I wilted under the weight of his disapproving gaze.
“You’ve really hurt me, Marcie,” he said quietly. “It’s not like you to keep things from me, especially something that affects me this much.”
My stomach churned and my face felt hot. Anger, humiliation, fear—I wasn’t entirely sure what to call the painful emotions that swirled inside of me, but the way my dad dismissed my feelings—dismissed my relationship with Denton—cut me deep.
What the two of us had shared wasn’t illicit or dirty. It was real and life-changing, and I wanted my dad to understand that. Before I could say anything, though, he stood up abruptly.
“I need some time and space to process all this shit,” he said, and glanced over at Denton, his eyes narrowed. “From you especially, Denton.”
Denton nodded, but I didn’t miss the flash of pain in his eyes. “Understood.”
Dad’s booted feet thumped against the hardwood floors as he turned and stormed toward the door.
“Daddy,” I said helplessly, standing up and resisting the urge to run to him, to hug him and beg him to understand and accept my feelings for Denton. But knowing he wasn’t in the frame of mind to listen to reason, I said instead, “I love you.”
He stopped and stared at me, eyes blazing with hurt. “I know you do. But I can’t be here right now or I might do or say something I might regret later.”
With a quick jerk of his wrist, he flung the door open and walked out, slamming it closed behind him. His heavy footsteps echoed in the hall, fading as he strode away from my apartment. Pain lanced at my heart and I crumpled into Denton’s arms with a sob as the sounds disappeared.
“He’s so mad,” I said against Denton’s sturdy shoulder. “I’ve never seen him this upset before. Not with me, anyway.”
A fresh sob shook my shoulders, and Denton pulled me closer and ran gentle fingers through my messy ponytail. I looked up at him and saw his own eyes were wracked with pain. But when he spoke, his tone was calm and reassuring.
“Your dad loves you,” he said. “He’ll come around.”
I sniffled. “Are you sure?”
“What choice does he have?” Denton said with a shrug and a slight smile. “I don’t want to break up, do you?”
I huffed out a sad little laugh. “No, not at all. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, caressing a hand down my back. “Will you come stay with me?”
I cocked my head and reached up to trace my fingers along his scruffy jaw, shaded with patches of gray. “I already stay with you all the time.”
He sighed and pressed his forehead to mine. “Maybe for a little longer than a night. Bring some clothes with you, stay for a couple of weeks if you want. This is…hard for me.” He swallowed. “I don’t really want to be alone. Do you?”
“No.” The pain welled up in my chest, fresh and hot, and I choked back another sob. “I don’t.”
Denton tugged me close again, surrounding me with his strong, warm arms as I cried against his chest and let my raw feelings pour out until I was spent.
Something had fractured between my father and I, but in my quiet apartment with Denton, as the early morning light filtered through the window shades, I knew that I wasn’t alone.
Neither of us were.
* * *