“’Fraid not.”
“But…why didn’t you let everyone know I’m not yours? It would’ve been so easy.”
“Ah, I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. What’s one extra mouth to feed?”
Her eyes burned. “Dad…” she whispered, but her voice was so low, she didn’t know if he heard her. She couldn’t breathe. One extra mouth to feed. Was that all she was to him?
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always been fair to you. If you want to know about your biological father, you’ll have to talk to Ceinlys. And I’d prefer that you didn’t advertise the fact that you aren’t mine. That would be embarrassing to your mother.”
“And to you.”
He shook his head. “Men have more leeway. Call it unfair all you want, but that’s the way society works. Ceinlys would be judged.”
“Why would you care?”
“Until the divorce is finalized, she’s still my wife. And my wife is my concern.”
She started shaking. How could her father sit there and talk in such a calm tone? “If Mom is really your concern, why did you hurt her by having affairs? Why did you stop loving her? You said you loved her when you proposed. You sent her hundreds of love letters and dried rose petals.”
All the warmth and humor left Salazar’s face. He looked as unyielding as a statue. “Because she hurt me first. She betrayed my love. The only thing she loved about me was my money. So she got it. But nothing beyond that, because she didn’t deserve it. Do you know what it’s like to sleep with a woman, knowing all the while she doesn’t want you?” His voice gained volume. “No, you wouldn’t. Because you’re young and stupid and idealistic and you think people only have sex for love or some such ridiculous reason. Listen very carefully, Vanessa. People have sex because it’s useful. It’s a tool you can use to cut or soothe, depending on your mood, and every time I had sex with your mother it cut me to the core. So I started having sex with other women to cut her back.” Suddenly he clicked his teeth shut and glared at her like it was her fault he’d said so much. “Out. Now!”
When she didn’t move fast enough to suit him, he threw a glass. It exploded against the wall behind her.
“Get out!” Veins stood in stark relief on his forehead.
Vanessa jumped to her feet and rushed out. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. This had to be a horrible dream. She just hadn’t woken up yet. Soon her alarm would go off, Justin would smile at her, and she’d laugh at how crazy her
subconscious mind could be.
Her feet tangled, and she fell forward, landing on her palms in the hallway.
Al rushed up the stairs, his normally impassive face pale. “Miss, are you all right?”
Nausea that had nothing to do with morning sickness rolled through her. Dragging in air seemed impossible with the tight vise around her chest. She croaked, “Bathroom.”
He reached down and helped her up. They reached a small guest bathroom, and she threw up her breakfast. Her gut continued to clench and unclench like it wanted to expel every morsel, every drop. Even when nothing was left, her body kept spasming. Closing her eyes, she wished she could get rid of her shock and misery as easily as the food she’d had.
Finally she fell back on her heels, her head lolling listlessly against the cold tiled wall. Her insides felt like somebody had raked them clean. She crawled to the sink and gripped the porcelain edge, pulling herself up. Then very slowly, she flushed the toilet and cleaned herself up. The mirror showed her an awful reflection. Red blotches mottled her pale face, and tendrils of hair hung limp with sweat and water.
A small glass of ginger ale appeared in her vision. “This should help,” Al said.
“Thanks,” she said hoarsely. She took a small sip of the cold, sweet drink. Her throat hurt too much to finish it. “I’d like to go home. And if you heard anything, don’t tell anybody. I’ll deal with it later.” She had no idea what she was going to say about the news.
“Of course.” He glanced down at her still unsteady legs. “Would you like me to help you to your car?”
“Please.”
He escorted her down the stairs, his hands on her elbow and at the small of her back. She was grateful for the support. She didn’t think she could’ve made it on her own.
She climbed into her car. Her hands were trembling so badly, it took her a couple of tries to start the engine.
Salazar—dad—isn’t my dad after all. And she wasn’t who she’d thought she was all her life.
Her parents hated each other, used sex to hurt each other. All the love they’d professed for each other had been a big fat joke, lies spun to lead them on the most miserable path imaginable.
No wonder her father had seemed preoccupied whenever he was dealing with her. He probably wondered about the other man every time he looked at her.
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and wet her shirt. She’d never suspected her parents’ marriage was something this foul. And never once did she expect to see her father lose control like that. Her father embodied cool, easy charm. Nothing…absolutely nothing had been able to ruffle his feathers.