My phone rings again.

“I’ll take you to your dad’s.” Kingston starts his car and pulls out of the parking lot.

The rest of the trip is silent apart from my occasional sniffles.

He pulls into the driveway and shifts into park.

“Thank you for bringing me home. I’m sorry about . . . this whole thing. You really don’t need my stupid drama.”

“I can handle drama, Queenie. My sister is my mom, remember?”

“It wasn’t your choice to have that secret kept from you, though. And it wasn’t a mistake you made. It was someone else’s. This one is on me.” I sigh, my stomach flipping as the front door opens and my dad’s silhouette fills it.

“Do you want me to come in with you?”

“That’s kind of you, but I need to talk to my dad on my own. He’s probably going to be angry that I kept this from him, and I don’t think you’ll be an impartial mediator.”

“Okay.” He nods once.

I unbuckle my seat belt and reach for the door handle.

“Hey.” Kingston’s warm, rough fingers wrap around mine, and he squeezes. “We’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Okay. I should go.” He doesn’t make a move to kiss me, and neither do I. I’m not sure how much he’s placating me because he feels sorry for me and how much he really means it. I can’t say that I would blame him if he decided I’m too much for him.

It’s usually why my relationships end.

CHAPTER 23

DAD DISAPPOINTMENT

Queenie

My dad steps aside to let me into the house. I feel like a teenager who’s been caught drinking. Except I got married instead. Which is infinitely worse. It would probably be better if I got caught robbing a bank than the situation I currently find myself in.

“I think you have some explaining to do.” He closes the door, cutting off the view of Kingston’s car, which is still idling outside the house. I watch through the window as he pulls away from the curb, and I feel like my heart’s been run over.

And it’s all my fault.

If I’d stayed and made sure Corey paid the fees, I wouldn’t be here now, in this horrible situation. But I didn’t make sure everything was taken care of, because I wanted to run away from my problem and never think about it again. And now I have to face the consequences, which are a hell of a lot steeper than $150.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. And I mean it. Wholly. Truly.

I’m sorry for so many things.

I’m sorry that my biological mother tricked him by lying and telling him she was on the pill when she wasn’t. I’m sorry that my dad was too hormonal to make a better, more informed decision and didn’t rubber up anyway. I’m sorry my mom bailed when I was a few months old. I’m sorry that my dad is such a good guy and decided he was going to raise me on his own.

He stands in the middle of the living room, looking like he’s been to hell and back. “I don’t want an apology. I want you to tell me what happened. Did you really marry him?”

I can handle so many things—his anger, his frustration, his irritation—but the look on his face right now is more than I can take. It’s not disappointment.

It’s failure.

I tell him everything I told Kingston, even the part when I walked in on Corey with someone else.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why would you keep this from me?”

Because then I would’ve had to explain why I did it in the first place. I was wrong to be worried about his disappointment or anger. His hurt is far worse. I take a seat next to him. “I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

“I’m not disappointed, Queenie; I’m confused. I don’t understand why you made such a huge life decision on a whim and then kept it a secret for six years.”

“We’re not supposed to still be married.” I explain what happened with the divorce paperwork and why it never went through.

My dad rubs his temples. “It’s not the paperwork that’s a problem, Queenie. We can work on getting that taken care of starting tomorrow. It’s the fact that you were in that situation in the first place, and I had no idea. That’s my issue.”

I twist my hands in my lap, feeling very much like the eighteen-year-old girl I was when all this happened in the first place. “I thought if I had someone, you might try to find someone too.”

“Why would you think you needed to get married, though?”

“Because I was eighteen and an idiot.” And hungover at the time. “And I thought marriage and stability were synonymous with each other. It was an impulsive, bad decision, one I can’t ever undo, no matter how badly I wish I could, but at the time it seemed like a good solution. All you did was work and take care of me. I got caught up in the idea of having my own person, thinking it might help you move on too.” And he had started to, until I came back home.

My dad’s smile is sad. “Oh, honey, I chose to focus on you and work because those were the two things I cared the most about. I wasn’t ready to bring someone else into the mix. I wanted you to always be my top priority, especially since your mother wasn’t really in the picture, and when she was, all she did was cause you heartache.”

I can only imagine what she’s thinking now if she’s seen the media coverage of this train wreck. I’m sure she’d be gleeful over the fact that I married a hockey star and then botched up the divorce. “I didn’t want you to put your life on hold for me anymore.”

“I wasn’t putting it on hold for you, Queenie.” He takes my hand. “I didn’t trust myself to find someone who would be good for us. The last thing I wanted to do was bring a woman into our lives who was going to wreak more havoc on it. I tried dating on and off over the years, but I didn’t like the way it upset the balance.”

“I feel like that’s my fault. I sure didn’t make it easy for you.”

“You were a teenager; you weren’t supposed to make it easy. And maybe I should’ve tried harder to make one of those relationships work, but I wasn’t willing to risk making you feel as if you weren’t important. It was always us against the world, and I refused to let anyone who wasn’t worthy compromise our relationship.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I was a kid raising a baby, and then I was a thirty-three-year old with a teenager. I made mistakes with you: ones I might not have made if I’d had maturity and life experience on my side. So I’m sorry that I failed you along the way.”

“You didn’t fail me, Dad.”

“But I did. Somewhere along the way I failed to communicate that my lack of relationships wasn’t because of you; it was because I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

“I guess in my eighteen-year-old brain I thought me being married would give you the push you needed.”

My dad laughs. “Sending me links to dating apps would have given me a similar push.”

Both of our phones buzz—his from the table beside his recliner and mine from my purse. He nabs his, expression sobering as he scans the screen. “I’ve arranged a meeting with Corey and his agent so we can figure out the best way to deal with this. He’ll be issuing a public statement to help smooth things over; I can tell you that much. And we’ll get the divorce papers filed correctly, so that’s dealt with too.”

“This is going to be such a PR headache.”

“Slater is always a PR headache. If I’d known he was going to be such a constant problem for the team, I never would have agreed to the trade.”

“I should’ve told you as soon as you signed him. Well, I should’ve told you as soon as I dropped out and came back home six years ago, but I was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing.”

“We’ll get it dealt with so you can move on from it.” He taps the arm of the couch. “How’s Kingston handling it?”

“He’s . . . handling it like he handles everything, I guess.” But that’s not necessarily true. I’ve never seen him as upset and angry as he was tonight, before I explained what happened.

“Does that mean the two of you are okay?”

“For now, I guess.”

“For now?”

“It’s a lot to deal with.” I’m a lot to deal with.

“He cares a lot about you, though, Queenie. I can see that. He’ll weather this storm with you.”

I want to believe my dad is right, but the problem is, I am the storm. And I worry that after a while, Kingston will want to trade the cyclone that is me for someone whose calm matches his.

CHAPTER 24

BUSY BODIES

Kingston

“What kind of girl gets married at eighteen in secret?”

“This is soap opera level off the hook!”

“She’s way more exciting than Jessica, that’s for sure.”