After Ever Happy (After 4)

“Does Smith know?” I ask.

After a few beats of silence, Kimberly says, “We thought he did because of the way he is with Hardin, but he couldn’t possibly.”

I feel for Kimberly. She already had to deal with her fiancé’s infidelity, and now this. When Smith gets to us, he stops and gives us a mysterious look, as if knowing exactly what we’ve been talking about. That’s not possible, but the way he leaves ahead of us and goes to the car without saying a word, it does make me wonder.

As we drive through Hampstead to find Hardin and his father, the panic in my chest rises and falls, rises and falls.

Chapter two

HARDIN

The crack of snapping wood sounds throughout the bar.

“Hardin, stop!” Vance’s voice echoes through the space, from somewhere.

Another snap, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The sound pleases me, heightening my thirst for violence. I need to break things, to hurt something, even if it’s an object.

And I do.

Screams erupt, breaking me out of my trance. I look down at my hands and find the splintered end of an expensive chair leg. I look up at the blank faces of the alarmed strangers, searching for one face: Tessa’s. She isn’t here, though, and in this moment of rage I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. She would be afraid; she would be worried for me, panicking in a rushed way and calling my name to drown out the gasps and shouts ringing in my ears.

I drop the wood quickly as if it had burned my skin. And feel arms around my shoulders.

“Get him out of here before they call the police!” Mike says, his voice louder than I’ve ever heard it before.

“Get the fuck off of me!” I shrug away from Vance and glare at him through the red filling my vision.

“You want to go to jail?!” he shouts, only inches from my face.

I want to shove him to the ground, wrap my hands around his neck . . .

But a couple more women scream, making sure I don’t go back down that black hole again. I look around the expensive bar, noting the shattered tumblers on the floor, the broken chair, the horrified expressions of patrons expecting to glide above this kind of carnage. It’ll be only moments before their shock turns to anger over my disrupting their overpriced pursuit of happiness.

Christian is by my side again as I storm past the hostess and outside. “Get in my car and I’ll explain everything to you,” he huffs out.

Worried that the cops really might be showing up any moment, I do what he says, but I’m not sure how to feel or what to say. Despite the confession, I can’t wrap my mind around this. The impossibility of it all is ridiculous.

I get in the passenger seat just as he hits the driver’s side. “You can’t be my father, it’s not possible. It doesn’t make a bit of sense—none of it.” Looking at the expensive rental, I wonder if this means Tessa is stranded at that damn park where I dropped her off. “Kimberly has a car, right?”

Vance looks at me incredulously. “Yes, of course she does.” The low purr of the engine grows louder as he zips through traffic. “I’m sorry that you found out this way. Everything was coming together for a while, but then it started to slip.” He sighs.

I stay silent, knowing I will lose my shit if I open my mouth. My fingers dig into my legs; the slight pain keeps me calm.

“I’m going to explain it to you, but you have to keep an open mind, okay?” He glances over at me, and I can see the pity in his eyes.

I won’t be pitied. “Don’t fucking talk to me like a goddamned child,” I snap.

Vance looks at me, then back at the road. “You know that I grew up with your dad, Ken—we were mates since I can remember.”

“Actually I didn’t know that.” I glare at him. Then I turn to watch the landscape zooming by. “I don’t know shit about anything, apparently.”

“Well, it’s true. We grew up almost as brothers.”

“Then you fucked his wife?” I say, interrupting his bedtime story.

“Look,” he nearly growls. His hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “I’m trying to explain this to you, so please just let me speak.” He takes a deep breath to calm his own temper. “To answer your question, it wasn’t like that. Your mum and Ken began dating in high school when your mum moved to Hampstead. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”

My stomach turns at the memory of Vance’s mouth on hers.

“But Ken swept her off her feet immediately. They spent every moment of every day together, just like Max and Denise did. The five of us had formed a little clique, you could say.” Lost in the ridiculous memory, he sighs. and his voice becomes distant. “She was witty, smart, and head over heels for your dad—fuck. I’m not going to be able to stop calling him that . . .” He groans. His fingers tap on the steering wheel, as if to goad him on.

“Ken was smart—quite brilliant, really—and when he got into university with a full scholarship and early admission, he became busy. Too busy for her. He would spend hours upon hours at the school. It quickly became the four of us without him, and things between your mum and I . . . well, my feelings grew tremendously and hers began.”

Vance takes a momentary break to switch lanes and turn the vent so more air comes in. The air is still heavy and thick, and my mind is a fucking whirlwind when he starts up again.

“I always loved her—she knew that—but she loved him, and he was my best friend.” Vance swallows. “As the days and nights went by, we became . . . intimate. Not sexually at this point, but we were both giving in to our feelings and not holding back.”