Fuuuck. I rub my lips, nauseous as this secret starts morphing into a lie. I planned on telling him way before now, but Daisy just had surgery and my concern has been with her for so long that I really, honestly, forgot.
I’m not about to repeat past mistakes and harbor this for longer than I should. “Actually,” I say, drawing Connor and Rose’s attention too. “Willow is Jonathan’s daughter.” In so few words I explain everything our dad revealed to me, painting a picture of my proposal night without overdetailing.
Connor and Rose straighten, listening with rapt attention at new information.
When I finish, Lo visibly cringes and starts pacing the length of the foyer to the couch, silent and white-knuckling his fucking cellphone.
The only sound comes from Piglet’s whiney voice, irritating me more than that cartoon ever has. Pushing Lo to silence might be more terrifying than his outbursts. I just wasn’t prepared for this.
“Hey.” I grab his arm on his way back towards me, stopping him mid-stride. “Fucking talk to me.”
He shoves me off and then points at his chest. “I’ve had bombs dropped on me for the past five years. You think I didn’t question this once or twice? I did. I thought about it, and what I keep thinking now—out of everything—is that I’m glad he knows what it feels like to be duped for decades. Believing his familial relationships are set in stone, only to learn that it’s a fucking lie. And this is all his fault. All his goddamn fault. So yeah, I’m happy that our dad had a daughter he never knew about.”
He lets out a heavy breath, pausing for a second before adding, “Not really happy for Willow, but…yeah.” His eyes redden, empathizing with her since he’s been there.
I watch him stare past the hardwood floor. “You’re not pissed at me?”
“For what?”
“For waiting to tell you.”
He cocks his head with an annoyed expression. “Daisy just underwent surgery. You think I’m that selfish?”
He’s just not the same guy he once was. He’s grown up, not as resentful over the smallest things anymore. While I process this, he gives me one of his signature Loren Hale death stares, the kind that’d probably terrify all his billion-dollar corporate enemies.
“Thanks a lot,” he says bitterly. He lets out a sigh and then runs a hand on the back of his neck. “Since you’re now her brother too…” His face contorts like this is fucked up. It is, a little bit. “You really need to know what’s going on.”
The shit he’s worrying about. “What is it?”