The Hardest Fall

Something must have made it through because his eyes softened, the angry lines on his forehead slowly decreasing, at least I thought so. “We can’t tell him about your mother.” He sighed. “And Emily doesn’t know about you. She won’t handle it well if she learns that Chris knows she’s not his mother.”

My mom had been sleeping with Mark behind his wife’s back when she got pregnant with Chris. Just two months before she passed away, she sat me down and told me all about their toxic relationship. She hadn’t thought of it as toxic, but that was exactly what it had been. Initially, Mark wanted her to get an abortion, but when my mom refused to do so, Mark came up with a better idea. Since his wife couldn’t have a baby because of her health issues, why not adopt the one Danielle was going to have and kill two birds with one stone? My mom didn’t know what he had told his wife, but to her, he’d promised to leave the wife when the time was right. Only problem was, the right time never came. A scandal would affect his football career. His coach at the time was his wife’s father, and surely he’d have done everything he could to get Mark fired if he learned that he was cheating on his daughter. If she didn’t let them adopt the baby, he’d never acknowledge it, never see her again. However, if she did, they’d keep seeing each other behind the wife’s back, and when he left her, they’d raise Chris together. I’m not sure if my mom was so naive because of her young age or because of love, but she went along with his plan.

“What do you mean we can’t tell him about his mother?”

“I’ll only agree to tell him you’re his half-sister, and you’ll wait for me to tell him, Zoe. You’re not going to say one word to him without my knowing. That’s the best you’ll get from me.”

Jesus. Was he actually negotiating with me about this?

“This is his last season, and I’m going to wait till it’s over. I can’t afford for him to lose his focus and screw up his future over this. If you care about him, you’ll wait till the season ends.”

I wanted to ask so many questions, but I simply nodded. I’d waited three years to meet him after all; a few more months was nothing.

When he didn’t move his eyes off me, I gave him a tight nod and turned around to leave. The air inside the room was becoming stifling.

“One more thing, Zoe.”

I stopped with my fingers on the handle.

“I don’t want you to be friends with Dylan Reed.”

My brows drew together in confusion and I faced him. “What? Why?”

“When I told him he could stay at the apartment, I thought you’d already moved out to live with your friend…what was her name…Kelly.”

“Kayla.”

He sighed. “Yes, her. Dylan is busy enough so I know he won’t be around you, but I still want you to keep your distance since he is one of Chris’s friends. I assume you’ll be moving out soon anyway. I’m going to talk to Dylan about it, but if Chris or any of my players come around to the apartment again, I want you to stay away. Get out if necessary.”

I blinked at him.

Fuck you.

I’d wait till the season was over before I told Chris anything, because it wasn’t just my secret to tell and I wouldn’t want to mess up his game. Mark would never be a father to me or anything even close to that, but he was Chris’s. Beyond that, he was right—it’d do Chris no good if I blurted everything out right in the middle of football season. I was pretty sure that wouldn’t make me his favorite person.

All that being said…Mark Wilson was the last person on earth who’d get to choose who I was friends with.

* * *

“Dad?” I whispered into my phone.

“Who is this stranger calling me ‘Dad’?”

I wanted to talk, but I couldn’t force the words out.

“Zoe? So you do remember that you have a dad, huh?”

I could only manage a whisper. “Yes, Dad.”

His tone changed from playful to worried in a second. “Zoe? Are you there?”

Mumbling something unintelligible, I sniffled and pulled my legs up to my chest. Resting my forehead on my knees, I wiped a tear from my cheek before anyone around me could see I was crying.

My dad sighed into the phone and I closed my eyes tighter. Oh, how I wished he was right next to me and I could just disappear into his hug and never leave his side.

“Tell me what he did,” he ordered with a slight edge to his voice.

“How do you know it’s him?”

“Who else could manage to make you cry? Even when you were a toddler you didn’t cry as much as you have these past few years. Tell me what he did now.”

What was it that broke that tight hold when a girl heard her dad’s voice, even over the phone, even when he was four hundred miles away? “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore, Dad.” More hot tears made their way down my cheeks and onto my jeans.

“You’re supposed to tell me what’s going on, my pretty girl. I can’t bear it when you call me crying like this.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “Did I interrupt your work?”

“Zoe…” Another long-suffering sigh. “You’re never an interruption, and you barely call me as it is. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you. That’s all I want to do, I promise.”

“I know, Dad.” I hated how he always felt like he had to be careful when we were talking about this specific subject. I wished we didn’t have to talk about it at all.

“Good,” he grunted. “So tell me what’s been happening and we’ll figure it out together, just like we always do, all right?”

Bah. It was like there was a button, and more tears came out.

“I was in his office just a few minutes ago. He yelled at me, but that’s not important—God knows it’s not the first time—but the things he says…he doesn’t even realize how much he is hurting me. He’s making me feel like a dirty secret. I feel…wrong.”

“Just wait a second—he’s been yelling at you? Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this, Zoe? You promised you’d tell me everything. That was our agreement before you left.”

I bit down on my lip to hold off on saying anything. I could picture him taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, just like he always did when he felt troubled.

“I don’t like him yelling at you, let’s get that out of the way first. He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“And I don’t want to hear the words ‘dirty secret’ out of your mouth ever again. If I do, we’ll have a problem. What’s wrong with you? You’re my girl, not his, not in the way that counts, anyway. You’re everything I ever wanted to have in a daughter. I couldn’t be more proud to be your dad.”

“Dad,” I groaned. “You’re making it worse here.” His words were a soothing balm to the fresh wounds Mark had left, and they made me emotional too, just in a different way. I finally raised my head and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

“Nothing he does or says can make it otherwise. You’ve never been anything but a joy to me. I don’t care if he happens to be your biological father, doesn’t mean one thing to me. I raised you better than this, so why are you letting him hurt you?”