It’d taken him more than a year of living with his father before he’d come around to calling him Dad, and the step backward now was painful. The name was sharp and cutting. Greg reacted as if he’d been shoved, and Preston looked pleased the verbal blow had landed.
“You do whatever the fuck you want,” he continued. He stood taller, full of righteousness. “Always have, and always will.”
I pressed my hand harder to my chest, holding the coat in place, but more to try to stop the pain in my heart. Whether or not he was right, or whether it was fair, he’d probably always feel that way, no matter what his father did to try to make up for it.
Greg’s tone was defensive. “That’s not true.”
“You’re so goddamn selfish.”
“I used to be, yeah,” Greg said. “I screwed up with you and your mom. There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t wish I could change what I did.”
As far as I knew, they’d never talked about it, and I held my breath, wanting to fade into the background.
Preston’s expression turned sour. “Bullshit, and I don’t want to hear it.”
“Yeah? Too fucking bad, because you’re going to. Cassidy and I didn’t plan on this happening, it just . . . did. You’ve got to understand, we didn’t do this to intentionally hurt you.”
It was painful to watch the two most important men in my life fighting, and know I was the cause. All of Greg’s hard work to make it right with his son, all undone in the blink of an eye. I dropped my gaze down to my feet as I struggled to rein in my emotions.
“I’m sorry you found out like this.” Greg’s voice brimmed with remorse. “Preston, I care about you so much—”
His son’s humorless laugh cut through the room. “Yeah, if that were true, you wouldn’t have fucked her.” It was like I wasn’t there, wasn’t in the room. All of his focus was locked onto his father. “You knew how much she meant to me.”
“Do I?” Greg’s posture changed abruptly, shifting from defense to offense. “If she meant so much, then why the hell did I find you and that naked girl in the hot tub the week after you came home from school?”
Both men were acutely aware of my presence when I gasped.
That was the only sound for a long moment. Time seemed to stand still, other than the dancing shadows on the walls from the candlelight. My body went numb, my mind empty. A survival instinct kicked in, refusing to accept the statement so I could spare myself the pain.
My voice was a ghost. “What?”
The week after you came home from school. Which meant not only had Preston cheated on me, but Greg knew about it . . . and he hadn’t told me.
I didn’t know where to focus or what to do. Sensation slowly returned to my body as awareness sank in, but I felt out of sorts. Like all my organs had turned upside-down.
Preston’s gaze hesitantly floated my direction. At least it was nice to see a different emotion splashed on his face instead of anger. He didn’t seem as tall or indignant when he looked guilty as sin. His words were hollow. “It was one time. I made a mistake.”
I couldn’t be here. I had to flee before I broke into a million pieces. The betrayal from the Lowe men was too much. I couldn’t deal. I tottered backward on the heels, needing immediate distance. How the fuck was I going to get to my clothes in Greg’s room? It was a million miles away, and even though they’d both seen me naked, now they felt like—
Strangers.
The hurt painted on my face made Preston angry all over again, but not with me. No, he blamed his father for revealing the stunning information. He shot daggers at Greg, like it was all his father’s fault and not his own.
Classic fucking Preston.
He didn’t care about me or my feelings—only that his father had gotten him in trouble. Meanwhile, Greg was the opposite. Concern streaked his expression as he reached out for me.
I stared at his hand, unwilling to move toward it or away. How could he keep this enormous secret from me?
“Seriously?” Preston snapped, staring incredulously at his father’s outstretched hand. Maybe it looked like Greg had chosen me over his own son, and Preston wasn’t about to have it. He made a noise of frustration and took off, his heavy feet pounding on the hardwood as he stomped to the top of the stairs and went down them.
“Preston.” Greg took a step toward his son, stopped, and cast a glance at me over his shoulder. “Don’t go, Cassidy. Please? Will you wait for me in my room?”
I couldn’t force an answer from my lungs, but he must have thought I’d agreed because he nodded and hurried toward the stairs.