“So, you didn’t know about Reid?”
“She told me she got hurt before we got together but hid the depth of her relationship and feelings for Reid from me. The night I found out was one of the most painful nights of my life. Seeing how much she loved him and how drawn she was to him fucking gutted me. I broke it off right then.”
“Is that when she quit the paper?”
“Yes, and it was brutal,” he confesses. “Despite making her aware he wanted her back, Reid kept his distance. He respected her choice to stay with me if that’s what she wanted—and I did the same. Selfishly, I entertained getting back with her when she didn’t go running to him, but it would never have been right. Because though we were very much in love, we never fit the way we needed to in order to last. So, I let her go, and she set out on her own and started a future without either of us. You read the emails.”
I nod.
“They found each other again by crazy coincidence, and the rest is their history, Natalie—not mine.”
“The headlines, though,” I whisper. “How did you handle it?”
“It stung pretty badly,” he says honestly. “But it wasn’t news to me. We’d been apart so long I made peace with it. The truth for me is, if I had stayed with Stella, married Stella knowing what I did, I would have been the one settling.”
I mull over his revelation, his truth flipping so many of my theories on their head. “So, after…when you met Mom—”
“I love your mother,” he cuts in sharply, “On an unparalleled level. No other love I have ever had compares to what I feel for her. I fell for her because she is beautiful, strong, independent, brave, ridiculously intelligent, loved football, and did not put up with my shit for one second. If you want the truth, she terrorized me from day one, swear to God.” He grins down at the foam on his beer. “I married Addie because we fit together in a way we would work long term, because I learned how vitally important that was. The rest of that love stems from the history we made spending so much of our lives together.” He turns to me. “So, I didn’t tell you about my history with Stella, because frankly, it was a history I’d outgrown, living out my future with the woman I was meant to marry—and it was none of your damned business.”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” I let out a harsh exhale. “To be fair, Dad, I knowingly committed every single crime you called me out for when we got back from Arizona.” Taking a large sip of beer, I settle in, intent on finally explaining myself.
“It started small, shocking but a minor enough offense. I read an email I wasn’t supposed to see. But it was that small shock that had me reading the second email, which led to the third. But when I realized my source was the one hurt in the love story I was becoming so invested in—and probably wouldn’t be forthcoming with the whole of it—I took my father’s advice and sought out another source, but in the wrong way.”
I look at him pointedly, allowing my admission to flow freely. “I was utterly fascinated by it because I’d never experienced those feelings for myself.” A lump begins to build in my throat. “I figured out soon after—with the help of my alternate source—that what I truly was, was envious. But in digging, I incriminated myself to the point I knew it would damage us badly…and I was terrified. At first, the solution was just a short walk to your office. An answer to a question, a brief communication between us to put all the mystery to rest.” Forcing my eyes to remain on his despite my guilt, I continue. “The next thing I knew, the tables were turned, and I was existing in a different world that you knew nothing about.”
We both sit for several minutes in silent contemplation of our reciprocal admissions before I speak up. “Now I’m in limbo between them.”
“You don’t have to be,” he rasps out hoarsely. “I can handle a lot, but knowing your absence is my fault… It’s my biggest regret as a father.” He turns to me, eyes misting, “Come home, and if you do, Natalie, I promise you I won’t ever abuse the paper or my relationship with you like that again.”
Dad left me at the bar that night with a standing invitation to return home, along with a promise to allow me space to live my life. That conversation left the door wide open for more reconciliation. The following week, I flew back to Austin and into my mother’s waiting arms, my future still uncertain but determined to restore some semblance of order.