Chapter 296: My Dad Adopts My Ex

Connor chuckled too, but the laughter faded, and the room fell silent again.

I looked at him and felt something settle inside me...not attraction, not romance, but rather a sense of understanding.

We were different people with different pasts, yet there was a strange resemblance between us. Both of us had clung to someone, unsure of where we stood.

We had tried to fill the void left by them with others, but neither of us had been especially successful.

The difference was Connor had finally cut Taylor from his life, while I wasn’t sure I could say the same for Damien.

Connor leaned back in his chair and looked at me. "You know what the worst part is?"

"What?"

"I honestly don’t even know if I want Taylor back anymore."

I frowned. "But you still think about them."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I guess some people leave a mark, even after you stop wanting them."

That line stuck with me for the rest of the night.

By the time we left the bar, Connor was noticeably tipsy. Not dangerously so, but enough that his walk was a bit wobbly and his sentences were meandering.

He paused next to my car, glancing at the keys in his hand. "I can drive."

"No."

"I can."

I extended my hand. "Shut up and give me the damn keys."

Connor looked at the keys, then at me. "You’re really bossy."

"Hand over the keys."

He sighed dramatically and dropped them into my palm. "Fine."

The drive to his apartment was much quieter than earlier. Connor leaned against the window, occasionally mumbling something about Taylor that I couldn’t quite catch.

At one point, he suddenly said, "Thanks for not leaving me."

I glanced at him. "What?"

"At the bar."

"I wasn’t going to leave you there."

He nodded sleepily. "Good guy."

I laughed. "You’re drunk as hell."

"Still true."

When we got to his apartment, Connor nearly forgot which building was his. "It’s that one."

Once inside, he tossed his keys onto the table and immediately looked worn out.

"You can stay here," he said.

"I’ll take a taxi."

"No."

"Connor—"

"It’s late."

He gestured vaguely to the couch. "Sleep in my room. I’ll take the couch."

I hesitated. He had a point...it was late, and I wasn’t too keen on driving home after midnight when I was already tired. But I didn’t to sleeping in the bedroom.

He disappeared into his bedroom, and within minutes, the place was silent.

I grinned to myself. "Good night, disaster."

I changed into a spare T-shirt Connor had left folded on the couch and settled under a blanket. The apartment felt quiet as I stared at the ceiling.

For some weird reason, sleep refused to come. My phone, resting on the coffee table, had no new messages.

I wasn’t sure if I felt relieved or disappointed.

I locked my phone again.

Then I stared into the darkness.

Could it be that I was still capable of holding onto feelings for Damien for more years to come?

That thought scared me more than I wanted to admit.

Four years had already gone by...what if another four passed?

What if I hit thirty and still thought about him every time I touched that necklace under my shirt?

What if I will never really move on from that asshole?

And worse, did I even want to?

I closed my eyes.

Damien had come back. He said he wanted me. He claimed he hadn’t forgotten me.

But why had it taken him three more years than he promised?

What happened during those years? What kept him away?

And if he really wanted me all that time, why stay silent?

Those questions haunted me until exhaustion finally took over.

I drifted off to sleep without answering a single one.

I woke up before sunrise. For a few seconds, I forgot where I was, then it all came rushing back...Connor, the bar, the conversation, and the fact that I’d spent half the night questioning every decision since turning twenty-one.

I quietly got dressed, left Connor a brief note thanking him for dinner and saying I’d gone home, then called a taxi.

By the time I got back to my neighborhood, the morning was starting to brighten.

I wanted to whip up breakfast for Dad. It’s something I usually did when I had the time, and after the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night, I craved something normal.

Eggs, some toast and definitely a lot of coffee.

I unlocked the front door. "Dad?"

But there was no reply as I stepped inside and then halted.

The rich aroma of fresh coffee filled the air.

Someone was chattering away in the living room.

I frowned and slowly walked forward, my plans for a peaceful breakfast crumbling with every step.

Then I heard a very familiar voice.

My body was ten seconds from turning to literal stone from how frozen I was.

No.

There was no way this was happening.

As I rounded the corner, I saw Dad in his wheelchair by the coffee table, laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach.

And seated comfortably on our couch, coffee cup in hand like he had been part of the family for ages and had never left even for a day, was Damien.

Damien noticed me right away.

He was casually dressed, though somehow even his casual clothes looked so damn expensive. There was a calmness in his expression that made me instantly suspicious.

Then, that smug little smile crept onto his face.

Of course.

Because apparently, just showing up in my classroom wasn’t enough. Now he was taking the next logical step by appearing at my home.

Dad finally caught sight of me in the doorway.

"Oh, look, Ollie!" he beamed.

He gestured toward Damien as if he had just discovered a fantastic deal at the grocery store. "Look what the cat dragged in after all these years!"

I was still staring, from him to Damien and then back to the coffee in Damien’s hand.

My eyes narrowed. "How did you get in here?"

Dad laughed. "I let him in."

"Dad!"

"What?"

"You let Damien into our home?"

"He was in the neighborhood and he brought pastries too." I blinked at him as Dad shrugged. "They’re really good pastries, so why not."

I looked back at Damien, who lifted his coffee cup slightly with a mischievous smile. "Good morning, Sunshine."

I felt as if my soul had left my body and he stepped closer to me, as his expression darken into one of slight anger.

"Did you have a nice night out with that friend of yours?"