Page 79 of The Girl He Loves
My heart sinks. I’m lightheaded. My fingers tremble as I type my reply.
OMG. How long have you known?
—
About six months. I’ve been messed up ever since.
Poor, poor girl. She needs to know who her father is. She needs to meet Brian.
Why don’t you talk to her about it?I ask.
I’m afraid to. I’m afraid of the truth. What if my biological dad is a murderer, a rapist? What if she gets mad at me for reading her diaries? And worst of all, what if my dad finds out? He doesn’t know I’m not his.
No wonder the poor girl is cutting. This is way too much for a young girl to handle. I want to help her so badly, but I’m not sure how to.
I’m just about to respond when Brian bursts into the kitchen.
“What the fuck, Mischa?”
Oh shit. I’m in trouble again.
36
He closes the distance between us and presses me against the counter. “I just had a long conversation with Renee,” he tells me. “Apparently you’re stalking Ava now… and Renee.”
“I can explain—”
“Explain what?” he asks. “That you’re off your meds again.”
Asshole.
“Actually, I’ve upped my meds,” I deadpan. “You know… when you suddenly find out that your husband has been hiding a secret child from you for years, you kind of need to.”
He stares at the floor. “It’s complicated… you know that.”
Yes, this whole Ava thing is very complicated. “I need to say goodbye to this person,” I tell him as I type my reply quickly.
So sorry, Ava but I gotta go. I’ll send you a message very soon… I promise.
I set my phone down on the counter and look up at my husband — he looks about ten years older than his thirty-nine years. I suppose keeping a secret for years will do that to a person.
“I know it was a lot to take in, Mischa—”
“A lot to take in?” I scoff. “I discovered that you not only cheated on me with a goddess, but that you’ve fathered her child,” I add in very hushed tones, “and that you’ve hidden a secret daughter, a whole other side of your life that you didn’t share with me because you thought I was too crazy to handle it.”
“Well, was I not right?” He smirks. “Look at the way you’re behaving, going around town, stalking everyone.”
I throw the dish towel at him. “How dare you. I’m stalking them because I want answers. I want to know what’s happened to us, to our family. I want to understand why you did this, Brian.”
“You always have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, Mischa,” he tells me and there’s so much anger and repulsion in his eyes. I can’t stand to have him look at me that way. I don’t deserve to be treated like this.
I swing my arm out, not at him but at the closest thing I can find, a box of milk sitting on the counter. It crashes to the floor and milk goes flying everywhere. I grab my phone and storm off. “You clean the fucking kitchen.”
I run to our bedroom in tears. Trevor has come out of his room where he spends most of his life these days. “What’s going on?”
I’m crying and certainly not the person to answer him — I don’t even know what’s going on myself. Thankfully, Tristan is out with a friend again. “Go back to your room, Trevor. We’ll talk soon… I promise.”
I slam the bedroom door closed and crash on the bed. I bury my face in my bed cushions, the pretty decorative ones, but as soon as the silk touches my skin, I lift my head — I don’t want to smear mascara all over them. I dig out my pillow and press my face into it. I let out guttural cries, hoping Trevor can’t hear me.
