Lie (Betrothed 8)

It was also the reason I would never marry an older man. I wanted a husband who would be around for as long as possible. Unfortunately, I did find older men much more attractive than men my age, but I would keep looking until I found someone decent. “You aren’t an old man, Daddy.”

“Stop interrupting me.”

“You’re taking ten minutes to make a move when you know you’re gonna lose anyway.”

He finally made his move, the better choice of the two.

And then I demolished him. “Checkmate.”

He was visibly disappointed. “I never should’ve taught you. I’ve created a monster.”

“No. You’ve created another you. When I have my children, I’ll teach them this game, and they’ll kick my ass when I’m your age.”

He smiled slightly, pleased by that legacy.

Damien walked inside. “Who won?”

“Your sister,” he answered. “But I’ll get her next time.” He slowly rose out of his chair and came to my side of the table to kiss me on the head. “Good game, sweetheart.” Then he moved away to the dining table, where Patricia had placed coffee and muffins.

Damien took the vacated chair. “You didn’t let him win?”

“Not this time.” My hair was in a messy bun, and I played with the earring that hung from my lobe. My father and brother had never noticed anything unusual about my face, and since my brother was so attentive to detail, the only reason he didn’t comment on it now was because my face had truly returned to normal. He would have been able to tell if I were trying to cover up something with pounds of makeup.

“How was lunch?”

“Good. So, Sophia is going to pop soon?”

He shook his head slightly at the description. “She’s supposed to go into labor in a few days. If not, they’ll induce her.”

“Hades must be excited.”

“I guess Sofia is really uncomfortable right now, so I think he’s more excited for that to be over, to be honest.” He smiled slightly, like he was remembering a story Hades had told him.

“Anna and I talked about marriage and babies and stuff…”

His eyes narrowed. “What? Are you gonna keep me in suspense?”

“Yep.” I continued to play with my earring and let the silence stretch out, loving the fact that I had something to hang over his head.

He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slightly with irritation.

“Okay, I’ve let you suffer enough… She’s ready.”

He leaned forward, his eyes a little wider with excitement. “She said that?”

“She said she was trying to take it slow, but it’s too hard. She believes you’re meant to be and it seems stupid to wait out of principle.”

He leaned back into the chair and didn’t give any obvious reaction, just the subtle cues in his eyes and lips. He looked away for a second, thinking about something that made his eyes light up a bit. “Well, that’s good news since I already have a ring.”

“You do?” I threw my hands down onto the table, making my palms smack against the surface. “Oh my god, show me. Princess cut? Solitaire? How many carats is it? It’s got be at least three.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. “Here’s a picture.” He slid the phone toward me.

“Why do you have a picture of it on your phone?” I asked him incredulously. “If she sees this, it’s going to be obvious what it is. You don’t even need to be smart to figure that out.” I waved the phone in front of his face. “Are you stupid?”

“We don’t have that kind of relationship,” he said, speaking confidently. “She would never go through my phone like that, and I would never do that to her either.”

“Damien, accidents happen.”

When he grew frustrated, he pushed the conversation forward. “Just shut up and look at the picture.” I grabbed the phone and brought it closer to my face. I tapped my fingers against the screen and spread them apart to pull the image closer, to inspect the diamond with a trained eye. I examined it like a jeweler. “White gold…solitaire…two carats. It’s nice…”

“It’s nice?” he said in offense. “That’s a beautiful ring. What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s a little small.” I put the phone down because I’d gathered all the data I needed. “I thought you were rich?”

“I am rich. But she’s not the kind of girl to walk around with a ten-carat diamond ring.” He raised his voice in protest, knowing my father was practically deaf at this point and wouldn’t have any idea what we were talking about.

“How do you know? Have you asked her? Has business been bad? Please don’t tell me you guys are gonna have to move in with me…”

He pressed his lips tightly together, annoyed with me. “There’s nothing wrong with my business. And I’d rather be homeless than move in with you.”

“Good. I’d rather you be homeless too.”