Chapter 166 166

Chapter 166 166
RYAN

I pulled into the detention center just as another black sedan rolled into the parking lot ahead of me. For a moment, I remained seated behind the wheel, trying to gather my thoughts before walking inside. I'd come here intending to speak to both of my parents, hoping that somewhere beneath the mountain of lies and betrayal there were still answers worth hearing.

As I stepped out of the car, the main entrance opened.

My father walked out, but he wasn't alone. My cousin, Hazel was beside him, speaking quietly while holding a folder against her chest. They looked completely absorbed in whatever conversation they were having until my father glanced up and spotted me standing a few feet away.

The moment my father noticed me standing outside the detention center, his entire expression brightened. He immediately excused himself from whatever conversation he had been having with Hazel before making his way toward me, relief evident on his face as though he'd been looking for me all day.

"Ryan," he called out warmly. "Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you."

I didn't answer. My eyes shifted to Hazel instead, silently asking for a moment alone with him. 

"I'll wait by the car," she said quietly before walking away, leaving the two of us standing alone in the middle of the parking lot.

The silence between us lasted only a few seconds, but it felt much longer. 

"I need you to answer one question," I said, holding his gaze.

My father frowned, clearly confused by the seriousness in my voice. "Of course. What is it?"

I didn't bother easing into it.

"Were you cheating on Mom?"

The change in his expression was immediate.

The color drained from his face so quickly that I already knew the answer before he even spoke. He stared at me for a brief second as though trying to figure out how much I already knew, and when he finally found his voice, it lacked every bit of confidence he was trying so hard to project.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I never took my eyes off him.

"Miranda."

His shoulders stiffened almost instantly, and for the briefest moment, panic flashed across his face before it was swallowed by anger.

"What did that bitch tell you?"

I felt my stomach sink.

The question alone told me more than I ever wanted to know.

I let out a slow, disbelieving laugh and shook my head, wishing with everything in me that I was somehow misunderstanding what was happening.

"No way..."

He remained silent.

"You were really sleeping with her."

My father sighed heavily and rubbed a tired hand across his face before looking away.

"It isn't as simple as you think, Ryan."

I couldn't help laughing, although there wasn't a trace of humor in it.

"It never is."

"Ryan, just listen to me for a minute."

"No." I took a step closer, cutting him off before he could continue. "You listen to me. I asked you a simple question, and I want a simple answer. Were you sleeping with Miranda?"

For several agonizing seconds, he said nothing.

Then, almost reluctantly, he nodded.

"Yes."

The word hit me like a punch to the chest.

I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to process the fact that my own father was…fuck!

When I finally looked at him again, he was already trying to defend himself.

"You can't blame me entirely."

I stared at him in complete disbelief.

"I'm sorry?"

He sighed again, this time sounding more frustrated than ashamed.

"Your mother was hardly ever home, Ryan, and somewhere along the line we stopped being husband and wife. We were living together, but we weren't really living together."

I felt something inside me snap.

"So that justified cheating?"

"I'm not saying it justified it."

"That's exactly what you're saying."

"No," he insisted. "I'm saying marriages are complicated."

I shook my head slowly.

"No, they become complicated when two people stop talking to each other. They become broken when one of them decides it's easier to climb into someone else's bed than fix the marriage they're already in."

His jaw tightened at my words, and for a long moment neither of us spoke. Eventually, he let out a dry laugh before looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Don't stand there acting righteous, Ryan. You and I aren't as different as you'd like to believe."

My brows knitted together.

"What does that mean?"

"You are the father of her unborn child."

I shook my head almost immediately.

"No, I’m not, Dad. She confirmed that."

He looked away, unable to meet my eyes.

"I loved your mother."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"Then you had a terrible way of showing it."

The words lingered between us before another thought forced its way into my mind.

"Does Mom know?"

He looked back at me, and the sadness in his expression told me I wasn't going to like the answer.

"Would you really be surprised if I told you she'd know for a while?"

I felt physically sick.

"What?"

I ran both hands through my hair, overwhelmed by the realization that everything I'd believed about my parents had been a carefully maintained illusion. The perfect marriage I'd grown up admiring had been nothing more than two unhappy people pretending for the sake of appearances while their lies slowly poisoned everyone around them.

"You both disgust me," I said quietly, the disappointment in my voice hurting far more than anger ever could.

My father flinched as though I'd struck him.

"Ryan..."

"I came here intending to see Mom too," I admitted, glancing toward the entrance of the detention center before slowly shaking my head. "But I don't think I can do that today."

Without waiting for him to stop me or offer another excuse, I turned around and walked back toward my car. 

I heard him call my name once, then again, but I never looked back because there was nothing left to say. 

…

By the time I pulled into my driveway, my head was pounding. I switched off the engine and reached into my pocket for my house keys.

Something slipped free before I could grab them.

A small velvet box landed on the concrete beside the car.

I stared at it for several seconds before bending down to pick it up.

The engagement ring.

I'd bought it months ago.

Back when I still believed that if I ever got another chance with Emily, I wanted to ask her to marry me all over again without delay.

I turned the box over slowly in my hands before opening it.

The diamond caught the fading evening light, sparkling brightly enough to make me smile despite everything that had happened.

For the first time since I'd bought it...

It no longer felt like a foolish dream.

I closed the box gently and slipped it back into my pocket.

"Soon," I whispered to myself.

"Very soon."