Alex

Helen and I have gotten into a routine in the past week. During the day, I leave for work and she stays at my house doing her job. I don’t know what exactly she does, but I do know that my schedule has never been more organized and all the emails that I hate answering have been answered. The only emails I’ve needed to handle are the top-priority ones. When I get home in the evening, she makes it a point to start a conversation with one of the staff members in order for me to participate. For instance, I was not aware Mrs. Roe was going through a divorce or that Ricardo, the maintenance manager, and his wife recently had twin girls. The staff looks less anxious when I’m around, and the smiles they give me when I walk into a room seem genuine now.

And our nights . . . our nights are filled with passion. Every evening Helen tries to convince me that her hotel is safe, but I always convince her to stay . . . mostly with my mouth. She’s even joined me in a game of racquetball, and I learned that Helen Archer is pretty good at sports.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Bradley says as soon as I answer his call.

“I have not. I’ve been busy.”

“With your assistant?” I hear the smirk in his tone.

When I don’t deny it, he continues. “Alex, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Your mother, if she—”

“Don’t worry about it—I have it under control.”

“If you say so. Just remember I was there when it all went down and your father—”

“I said, I have it under control,” I snap.

“Fine, then I’ll see you back here in a few weeks for your mother’s seventieth birthday.”

“Of course.” I fume, ending the call shortly thereafter. The memory of how I discovered my father’s body, and the deep depression my mother went through, haunts me, and I don’t need Bradley reminding me.

I’m in a foul mood all day.

What would my father think about my feelings for Helen? I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to having some deep feelings for her. I’ve always had them, and her coming back into my life made it real.

Today she left early to go pay her attorney in order to get things moving with her soon-to-be ex-husband. I told her I could handle it for her, but she wanted to take care of it herself. Nevertheless, I sent my team of attorneys an email with instructions to get together with her attorney and make sure that the matter is handled expeditiously. Yes, I’m letting her handle her own problems like she requested. But it doesn’t mean I can’t check to make sure everything is done correctly. By the end of the day, Luke will be served with divorce papers.

I wonder what’s going to happen when she gets her home back. Will she stay here, or move back home?

I played with fire by hiring her and I knew I was going to get burned. I knew it and I did it anyway.

But then I think of my father and I get mad at myself.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Yes, I am attracted to her. God, am I ever. She’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. But it’s more than that. She’s smart and resilient. She’s a survivor, even if she was taught to cross her legs at the ankle and which fork to use for salads, not how to make a dollar last for two meals and how to fix a broken pantry door. She is everything I’m not. She lights up a room with her smile, she makes people feel comfortable when she’s around, and she always says the right thing at the right time.

But that doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I can’t have a real, long-term relationship with her and she deserves to know this. She doesn’t need anyone else walking out of her life. I need to tell her before we get in deeper.

The next morning, I’m getting dressed for work when she sits up on my bed swaddled in one of my blankets. Normally, we get up together and have breakfast before I leave to work. Today, however, I couldn’t sleep, and at five in the morning I got out of bed, quietly, and decided to start the day early. After an hour playing racquetball, I took a shower, and now I’m almost ready to leave. 

“Were you just going to leave? I’m staying in your house, so it’s going to be awkward if you run away.”

She’s teasing me and I don’t think she realizes that I was actually about to head out. “Wait.” Her expression changes. “You were going to leave . . .”

“No. Well, I was—I’m going to work.”

“It’s early. Everything okay?”

“Yes.” I lean down and kiss the top of her head. “See you later,” I say because I’m too much of a pussy to say everything that’s on my mind.

Helen

Something is wrong with Alex and I don’t know what it is. He’s moodier than usual. I can usually handle his irritability because normally, it’s not directed at me. But today, it is, I think. I decide to ignore it and let him work it out on his own.

I’m excited about furniture shopping today for the new bedroom. I decided to keep the bed he has upstairs, but I want to buy a chest for his clothes and new chairs for the sitting area. I take his credit card, put it in my wallet, and head out.

I see the security detail follow me, like he does every single day, but he’s easy enough to ignore. I could argue about it with Alex, but Alex isn’t happy if he doesn’t get his way. Normally, that pisses me off, but I have to pick my battles and this isn’t one of them. Especially since it gives him peace of mind to know I’m safe.

I dial Gina. “Hey girl, how’re you doing?”

“Great. You?”

“Good. I think Luke was served with the papers yesterday. If not, it’s going to be today. I’m one step closer to getting my house back.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Gina exclaims, enthusiastically.

“I’m going to be by the club today and I want to bring them some treats. Two dozen cupcakes, whatever flavors you want. Mix ’em up. And I want to get Alex a pie but he’s allergic to cinnamon, so nothing with cinnamon.”

“Sure. I have a new lemon meringue recipe I’ve been working on. They’re flying off the shelves. I’ll save you one.”

“Awesome! I’ll see you later this afternoon. I want to know everything you’ve been up to!”

“Same here, girl. Buying a pie for your enemy? I need an update on your life!” We hang up and I continue on to my shopping expedition.

I’ve been shopping for three hours and have found the perfect piece of furniture to fit the room. Alex is going to absolutely love it. I finish charging it and schedule a delivery to the house. The room is almost finished and I can’t wait for Alex to see the final product. I’m a little worried he won’t like moving downstairs, but after spending a small fortune on the blinds in the dome roof, I know it’ll be perfect. I text Gina to let her know I’m on my way there and as I head over, I realize I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long, long time.

I park my car at the bakeshop and when I get out, I hear a familiar voice bellowing at me. Fuck!

“You bitch. You think that a divorce is going to get me to leave that house? If you fuck with me, I’ll make sure everyone knows how you paid for that house. You’ll go straight to jail. That’s what you want?”

He’s getting closer and closer to me.

“I knew I’d find you at the mall. Usin’ up your daddy’s money. You weren’t easy to find, but I remembered the password on your phone and you’d be surprised how easy it is to track a cell phone with a computer and a password. Not so dumb, Sweets, huh?” He taps his forehead.

Before I know it, my back is against the car and he’s inches away from me. Luckily, the security detail’s on hand, and I hear Jimmy before I see him. “Get the fuck away.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“I’m not going to let you scare me, Luke. You hit me. You’re squatting in my house. I’m done with you!” I rage at the top of my lungs.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Good to know, bitch. I came here as a warning, but if that’s how you wanna play it, then game on!”

He shoves away from Jimmy and gets into his car, which I hadn’t even noticed was parked there. I’m shaking by the time I walk into the bakeshop. I have zero doubt that Jimmy is calling both Alex and the police.

Alex

Jimmy called and told me what happened. I instructed him to follow Luke and now here I am, rushing to the address he gave me. I’m ending this shit once and for all. I’m also calling in favors and making a huge contribution to the police benevolent fund for this. I peel into the parking lot of a convenience store, seething. “He’s inside,” Jimmy says when I get out of my car. “What’re you going to do?”

“What I should’ve done last time.” I glance around and see that the plainclothes cops have arrived as well. They nod at me, then park close enough to observe, but not so close that they’ll be noticed. “No matter what happens, I don’t want you to get involved, understand?”

Jimmy frowns and then nods, hesitantly.

Luke strolls out with a brown bag and what looks like a beer. He opens the can and takes a huge chug, then starts walking to his car. He stops short when he sees me leaning against it, casually. “Oh, just who I wanted to see. The man fucking my wife,” he sneers, taking another chug of beer.

“You ever come near her again, I’ll fuck you up so bad, you won’t know how to spell ‘wife.’ Or maybe,” and I laugh, humorlessly, “you don’t know how to spell ‘wife’ now.”

“Go fuck yourself!” he yells. “Get off my car.”

I push myself up but don’t leave. “So, you’re the kind of man who needs to hit women to get his rocks off, huh? And not only that, you need to scare a woman into staying with you. Seems mighty manly of you.”

“You say one more word . . .”

I get in his face; judging by his breath, this isn’t his first beer of the day. “And you’ll what? You’re a drunk loser living off his ex-wife’s hard work. You’ve got a pussy’s aim, by the look of that small bruise you left on Helen. I’m surprised she didn’t—”

As his right arm winds back, my instinct is to duck, but instead I clench my fists shut and wait the nanosecond it takes for him to release it on my face.

Bam!

Damn it. That hurt. I open and close my mouth. “See, just what I thought. Pussy.”

Then I hear the click of a gun being cocked.

That, I did not expect.

He points it right at my face. “Who’s the pussy now?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flurry of activity near me. “Drop your weapon!” I hear the booming voice from next to me, but I can’t move my face for fear that any sudden movement will get me shot. “I said, drop your goddamn weapon!”

Luke’s hand is shaking now and I don’t know what he’s going to do. Desperation makes you do crazy things. For a split second, he looks away to see who’s making those demands of him, and I take the opportunity to grab his arm. He presses the trigger at the same moment and the bullet flies out and onto the concrete, ricocheting and hitting one of the police officers in the leg.

The next two hours are chaos. Luke is read his rights and arrested immediately. He’s charged with attempted murder, battery on a police officer, and even with drunk driving, since they found a bunch of empty beers in his car. He’s not getting out of jail for a very, very long time.

Luckily, the bullet only grazed the police officer and after a dozen apologies and thank yous, I send an email to Monique to issue a very large donation to the Miami-Dade Police Benevolent Association.

“That was a stupid move, Mr. Archer, with all due respect,” Jimmy says as we finish making our statements and get into our cars.

“I didn’t know he had a gun. I just wanted to egg him on. I wanted him to hit me, not shoot me.”

I run my hands through my hair. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Ever. Being with Helen makes me do completely irresponsible and dumb things, like purposely getting punched in the face and almost getting shot.

When I get back home, Helen’s waiting for me in the living room. She looks like she’s been to hell; her eyes are puffy and she’s clearly been running her hands through her hair. When she sees me, she runs straight to me and wraps her arms around me. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer the phone? I’ve been worried sick. It’s been all over the local news. Oh my God, your face . . .”

“Shhh!” I say as she starts crying in earnest. “Luke’s not going to be bothering you anymore. He’s going to be in prison for a very long time. He had a lot of priors, and this was the last straw.”

“I don’t care about that. I never, ever want you to do anything like that again. If something happened to you . . .” She starts sobbing against my chest. I’m feeling all sorts of things that I can’t explain. Then she says the one thing that simply blows me away.

“I love you,” she whispers as she rains kisses all over my face.

Her words make my heart swell but also ache. I love her too. I know this for a fact, but saying it feels like a betrayal of my dead father. I lift her up, her legs wrapping around my waist, and walk up the stairs and into my bedroom.

The motherfucker was carrying a gun. He could have taken it out and hurt Helen. The thought of that is so overwhelming I can barely control myself. I kiss her, hard, needing to feel her. I lay her on my bed and pull my shirt over my head and throw it aside. She is quick to discard her own clothing too. Without any precursor, she spreads her thighs for me and I slide inside. I flip us over still connected, my back to the headboard, and we make love, chest to chest, as she rides me mercilessly into the most intense orgasm of my life.

What am I going to do with this woman?

Helen

The next day I have the cupcakes delivered to Duality, because I don’t want to leave Alex. He has a headache and half of his face is black and blue. As for the lemon meringue pie, Gina delivers that personally to Alex’s house.

Before I’ve had the chance to properly introduce them, Gina’s already hugging Alex. “Uh . . . he’s not much of a hugger, G.”

“I don’t care. He got rid of Luke for you. I’m hugging him.” After a long embrace, she pulls back and gives him a big kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to hug you again.” And she does. Alex has an awkward smirk on his face and uncomfortably pats Gina on the shoulder.

“I brought you a pie. On the house,” she announces cheerfully.

“No. Not a chance. I’m paying you for that and for the cupcakes!” I protest, taking out money and shoving it into her purse.

She ignores me and continues, “Lemon meringue. No cinnamon. You’ll love it.”

“How’d you know I was allergic to cinnamon?”

She looks over at me as if it were obvious.

“How did you know?” he asks me when he realizes I told her about his allergy.

Doesn’t he know by now that I know everything about him? I used to study Alex Archer like it was my job. “I remembered,” I simply say.

His face softens and Gina throws herself on him again and smothers him in hugs, before leaving to go back to the bakeshop.

“I’m glad you have her in your life,” Alex says as Gina drives away.

“Me too. When things were as bad as they could get, I met her and she showed me how to live with next to nothing. She saved my life.”

He pulls me to him by the belt hook of my jeans and kisses me. “I have to go to Seattle for my mother’s birthday in a few weeks. Come with me.”

I’m sure there’s a look of horror on my face. “To your mom’s?”

“Yes.”

I shake my head side to side. “I . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’ll talk to her first. She’ll forgive you, I’m sure, once I’ve explained everything.”

“Forgive me?” Now I’m surprised. He thinks I don’t want to see his mother because I’m afraid of what she thinks of me? “Alex, I can’t see your mom.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Helen.”

“No. You said we wouldn’t talk about this. We’d let the past stay in the past.”

“Then come with me and it won’t be discussed. We don’t have to talk about it.”

He makes it seem as if there aren’t going to be any problems with this at all.

“I don’t know . . .”

“Think about it, okay?”

I wrap my arms around him. “Okay.”

Alex is supposed to go back to Seattle in a few days, and we’re in this weird place where we’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. We can’t have a relationship when a huge part of our lives is off the table for discussion.

He’s sitting at the dining room table working on his laptop, while I sit across from him with the other laptop. “How’s the office coming along? I need a place where I can work.” He’s agitated tonight, I can tell.

“It’s almost done,” I say, so excited for him to see it. I ordered office furniture as well, and that’ll be delivered on the same day as the bedroom things. I’ve planned it out so he’s not home when all the movers come to rearrange everything. He gets up abruptly and begins to walk toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“To see it.”

I grab his arm to stop him. “No!”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a surprise. I want you to see the finished product.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good one. Trust me?”

He kisses the top of my head. “Fine. But if it’s not done in the next two weeks, I’m going to call in a new contractor and project manager to get it finished.”

“You are such a grump sometimes.”

His eyes roam over my computer screen and his brows furrow. “What’s that?”

I glance at the laptop, then close it. “Oh. Uh . . .”

“Helen?”

“I think I’m going to go with you to Seattle, after all.”

“That’s good. But that’s—”

“The site for the penitentiary. I was checking the visiting hours. I thought since I would be in town anyway, I’d visit my dad.”

“Your dad?” he bellows, shocking me. With all that we’ve been through in the last few months, I’ve never heard him yell so loud. “You cannot go see your dad. Over my dead body.”

“Excuse me? Over your dead body? Have you lost your damn mind? He’s my father!” I am seething. How dare he?

“He’s a liar and a thief, and there’s no way I’m taking you home to see my mother after you’ve gone on a cute little visit with your father. You may not be responsible for my father’s death, but your father sure as fuck is!”

“What’s insane is that you have the nerve to ask me to accept your mother. She knew me. You both knew me and you never once tried to find out what happened to me. You never gave me the benefit of the doubt and instead just assumed I’d stolen money from you and was out gallivanting all over the world with stolen money. And still, I’m trying to be the bigger person because of the shit you’ve had to endure, and go to your mother’s birthday party. But, Alex, if you think for one second that it’s not hard for me, you’re absolutely wrong. And then you have the gall to think you can forbid me from visiting my father? You are completely fucked up in the head if you think you can decide to ignore the past when it suits you but not when it suits me.”

“Don’t curse.”

“Fuck. You!”

“My mother didn’t do anything wrong. If she’s willing to sit in a room with you, the least you can do is not visit your father.”

Sit in a room with me? As if I’m some sort of leper!

I stomp up the stairs. In the weeks since Luke was imprisoned, I’ve gone home once a week, mostly to get clothes. Every time I plan on leaving, Alex lures me back to his delicious bed and I end up staying over. But I need some distance from him right now. I’m too upset. I grab a duffle bag and start shoving things into it.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to go home. I can’t stand you right now.”

“You can’t stand me? Me? You’re the one who refuses to see the truth! Your father fucked us all! You included! I’m actually even madder at him now and it’s on your behalf!”

It takes all I have not to slap him. “Oh my God, you really are crazy! He did not do anything wrong! He is innocent!”

“Don’t be naïve, Helen! He even pled guilty, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m not being naïve! He had no choice. There was no money for attorneys and he got a plea deal, and—”

“Who pleads guilty to a deal where you rot in jail? Come on, think about it. He pled guilty because he is guilty! Otherwise, he’d have gone to trial and risked the loss. It would have been the same outcome!”

His words ring loudly in my mind. Who pleads guilty to a deal where you rot in jail? I’d never thought about that.

“No, you’re wrong.” But I hear the doubt in my own voice. I zip up my bag and stomp back down the stairs.

“Do not walk out that door, Helen.”

I look behind me, narrow my eyes, and defiantly walk right out the door and straight into my car. I don’t stop until I’m safely inside my house.

My dad’s a good man. The best man I’ve ever known. Why can’t others see that? Why can’t they understand that he didn’t have a choice but to plead guilty?

Damn Alex. Now I’m doubting myself and doubting my father. But why would he plead guilty? Even if he had used a free public defender and was found guilty, he’d have had the same outcome. I was so young when everything happened, I never really looked into it. I took my father’s word for it and never doubted him. But now I’m starting to think about what he said when I told him about running into Alex and how anxious he became. Was it because he thought I’d learn something he didn’t want me to know?

I’m pacing around my house, unable to think of anything but needing to talk to my father. But I can’t call him and I need to know.

Fuck it. I take the same duffle bag I packed at Alex’s and decide that my visit to my father can’t wait one more day.

While I’m at the airport waiting to board an expensive last-minute flight to Seattle, I think about how Alex hasn’t called me once. The hurt I feel is indescribable. And it hasn’t gone unnoticed that he hasn’t reciprocated my words of love and I haven’t said them again. With a sigh, I try to put Alex out of my mind, so I decide to do something I hadn’t done before. I search the Web for my father.

I know it seems stupid to anyone looking in—why wouldn’t a Google search be the first thing I did back then?

Well, first, he’s my father; I believed him.

Second, he asked me not to. He said that the media was spinning things to make him look like the bad guy and everything they said was lies. And again, since he’s my father and I was just a naïve eighteen-year-old, I believed him.

But, if I’m being truly honest with myself, I’ve always been a little scared. Scared of reading awful things about him, but also . . . well, what if he’s not this great person I’ve made him out to be?

I search his name and there’s article after article about him.

Prominent stockbroker, investment advisor, indicted.

Fraud.

Sixty billion.

Pleads guilty.

Twenty years in prison instead of the one hundred and fifty that he could have faced.

Ponzi scheme.

Fabricated gains . . .

I keep reading, and then start to pull the actual legal documents that I find in public records. My head hurts and when I finally look at my watch, it’s time to board the flight.

Alex

She’s not answering her phone. And, why would she? I was an asshole. Again.

I needed to cool down, but when I get in bed—alone—it hits me that I need her here with me. I don’t just need her, I want her. I want her all the time—talking, laughing, fighting with me, understanding me. I just want to be around her all the time. Forever.

I’m an idiot. Of course she’s going to defend her father. He’s her father. Forcing her to believe me isn’t going to get her to understand.

I try her again, but this time the call goes straight to voicemail. I spend the next hour pacing around the house like a madman. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I get in my car and go to her house. She can’t ghost me if I’m knocking at her door. She’ll have to talk to me.

Except that her car’s not there.

Now, I’m getting worried. I knock, but there’s no answer. I look through her windows, and it’s dark and empty inside. I must’ve called her twenty times before I finally return to my house. By three a.m., I’ve had two strong drinks and I’m a compete wreck.

Restless, I lie down on my bed, throw an arm over my face, and think back. Everything has happened so quickly, and I’ve reacted without really analyzing any of it, which is completely out of my character.

When I was a boy and the Blackwoods had Helen, our parents gushed that we’d be married one day and they’d all be family. Through the years, my parents called Helen their future daughter-in-law and even talked about how our kids would look. I always ignored them, thinking it was ridiculous because she was so young. And even if she hadn’t been young, and even if her parents seemed to like the idea of a Blackwood-Archer merger, her father was very overprotective and would have cut my dick off had I made a move on little Helen. She was always off-limits.

Thinking back, she never made it a secret that she had a crush on me. But I always thought of it as just that: a crush. An innocent adolescent crush that I frankly tried to ignore.

Even when I couldn’t help but pay attention to how beautiful she’d become, or how she craved my attention, I had to remember she was off-limits.

Then on her eighteenth birthday, when I saw her walk down the steps and my breath caught, I thought . . . well, maybe now I don’t have to pretend anymore. And then we kissed.

Had all that shit with her father not happened, I’m one hundred percent sure that I’d have pursued Helen. I would have stopped at nothing to kiss her again.

Except, that night ended in chaos.

And not until this very moment did I ever think about how it must’ve been like for Helen when her life fell apart. I’d been so busy trying to mend my own life and take care of my own family, I never even thought about how humiliating and scary it must have been to have federal agents storm your home with an arrest warrant, to not have anyone help you sort through the mess.

And her sonofamotherfucker father left her alone to deal with the mess. An eighteen-year-old girl.

My heart aches at the way I reacted to that day. Or rather, failed to react. All these years I thought she was selfish, but hell, so was I.

I dial her cell again, not caring that it’s four a.m. It goes straight to voicemail. Again.

Damn it.

At some point between fits of worry, I fall asleep.

Helen

I land at Sea-Tac airport, exhausted. With only ten percent battery life left on my cellphone, I turn it off to conserve the little I have until I check into my hotel.

I feel as if I’ve been flying all night. Which I have. I need a shower and a bed.

This little trip is going to take a huge toll on my bank account, but I have to get the real story. I haven’t seen my dad all year and we have a lot to discuss. Plus, I miss him. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him. Our weekly calls aren’t enough. I want to see him. I haven’t told him about my new job yet and absolutely haven’t told him about Alex. It’s been weighing on me. We don’t lie to each other, and my omission feels like a lie. But I know he’s going to be disappointed in me for working for Alex, and definitely for falling in love with him.

Once I am finally inside my room, I rummage through my bag for my phone charger and connect it while I shower. Then I turn on the television and lie down on the bed. My phone beeps with a bunch of messages—all from Alex. All asking me to call him immediately.

Right now, it’s the middle of the night, his time, and I don’t know if replying at this time is such a great idea since he’s most likely sleeping.

I quickly type out a response letting him know I’m fine and I’d call him tomorrow.

I’m dozing off when my phone chimes with an incoming text from Alex, 

“Are you home? Where were you? I went to your house and you weren’t there. Where have you been all night?” I see the dots on the phone blink and then stop, and then blink again and stop again. What the hell is he possibly writing? “I’m sorry about everything. Come home. I need you.”

My heart pounds. Coming from Alex, who doesn’t understand how to verbalize emotions, this is a huge deal.

“I’m in Seattle. I had to visit my dad.”

After a moment, my phone rings, and I look at it as if it’s a bomb before reluctantly answering it.

“Hello?”

“Helen,” Alex says in a gravelly sleep-fogged voice.

“Alex, it’s late.”

“How are you in Seattle?”

“How? I flew.”

“Alone? You just got into a plane and flew across the country without telling me?”

“I didn’t know I had to tell you.”

I hear a groan over the phone. I’m not being fair. If he was leaving the state, I’d expect him to tell me. “Sorry I didn’t call. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

He breathes into the phone. “I’m sorry. What I said earlier . . . I should not have said anything. He’s your dad and it’s not my place.”

“I need to talk to him. I hate that you planted doubt in my head.” My eyes water, and before I know it I’m crying. “I’m tired, Alex. It was a long day and a long flight. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon, okay? After I’ve spoken to my father.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Nothing else to say.”

“Call me as soon as you get out tomorrow. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good night, Helen. I hate not sleeping with you.”

“That’s nice to hear, Alex,” I say, truthfully. It’s difficult to know how he feels sometimes. He tries to take care of me, even if he sometimes does it by steamrolling me into giving in. Rarely does he tell me how he feels. Hearing that he needs me as much as I need him feels good. “I’ll miss sleeping with you too. G’night.”

“G’night, baby.”

We hang up, but I have a heavy heart in my not-so-comfy hotel bed.

I go through the usual security check at the prison. Now I’m sitting at a picnic table in a courtyard surrounded by barbed wire and armed guards. Since this isn’t a high-security prison, I can sit and talk to my dad without Plexiglas separating us.

I hear the loud buzz signaling that the metal door is going to open, and there’s my dad, wearing the orange jumpsuit all the inmates here have on. When he sees me, he smiles warmly. I watch him as he gets closer, taking note of how much he’s aged since I last saw him.

“Honey!” he exclaims excitedly. He takes me into his embrace, but it’s short-lived because physical contact is limited here. “How are you? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you so much too, Daddy.”

“You look good, princess. Better than I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Really?” I say, surprised, and then shrug.

“Tell me everything. How’s work? What’s new?” 

“Well, I finally signed the divorce papers and Luke’s out of my life.” I don’t tell him all the details. We have limited time and I need to talk to him about other, more important things.

“I’m sorry, honey. I know how much that must hurt.”

When I married Luke, I was head-over-heels in love and I told my father all about it. But that love faded a long, long time ago. “It’s fine. I’m okay. It’s for the best.”

He smiles knowingly. “It’s for the best?” He chuckles. “So, who’s the new guy? That’s why you’re glowing, isn’t it? It’s why you’re not too sad over the divorce.”

I take a deep breath and exhale. “I have to ask you something, Daddy, and I need you to be honest with me. You promise?”

“I’m always honest with you, honey. I’ve never lied to you; you know that. What’s going on, Helen?”

“Dad, I don’t even know how to ask you this.” I’m so nervous, my hands are shaking. How exactly do you ask your father if he’s a lying, thieving felon?

“What is it? You’re scaring me. Did something happen?”

“I need you to tell me the truth. I need you to swear to me that you are innocent. That you did not—” It’s hard to say the words. “Swear to me that you didn’t embezzle all that money, Daddy. Tell me the absolute truth.”

“Honey . . .” His voice breaks.

I feel the tears flowing out of my eyes as I talk and the lump in my throat is choking me. “Tell me the truth, dammit,” I say firmly.

“Honey, I . . . I never lied to you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Just because you didn’t come out and say you didn’t steal the money doesn’t mean you didn’t lie to me. Although, you did tell me you pled guilty because of the legal fees. Was that a lie?”

“Helen . . .” A tear falls from his eye, and I know right then and there that every single thing he told me since the arrest has been bullshit. Hell, everything he’s told me my whole life has been bullshit.

I stand up and pace the small area. “Oh God. I can’t believe it. How could you?”

“You had a wonderful life. You did things most people will never get to do. I did it for you, honey.”

I slam my palms on the table. “Do not ever say that. You didn’t do that for me. You did that for you.”

“No! That’s not true. I did do it for you. It started as a risky investment that went great and my clients threw more and more money my way. I reinvested but the next didn’t do so well. I got scared and made a number of bad investments. I didn’t tell my clients. I thought I had it under control. I wanted your life to be great and I didn’t want any of my problems to ever affect your life,”  

“That worked out great, Dad! Don’t you think having my father around, even if we were living in a one-bedroom apartment, would have been better than coming to visit you in prison? Or how about living out of my car, or sleeping with an empty stomach, or just . . . everything!”

“You did what? You lived in a car?”

“I was homeless, dad. Homeless.”

“I didn’t . . . I never knew.”

“Of course not. I was the idiot who shielded you from all my struggles out there,” I say, pointing to the door. “Because I felt so bad you were in jail, wrongfully. I wanted you to have peace with at least one thing in your life. I didn’t want to burden you. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Honey.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “Helen. I’m so, so sorry, I—”

“No! You lied to me. You made me a fool. Everyone was right about you, and I stood there and defended you and left everyone and everything I knew. God, Dad, how could you? Alex was right. I’m so naïve.” I’m sobbing, but I can’t sit down. I’m too infuriated to sit. My world has come crashing down on me for the second time in my life. Everything I thought I knew has been a lie.

He looks up, wiping his tears. “Alex? Archer?”

“Yes. Alex. I’m . . . we’re . . . I love him, Dad. I love him and I don’t deserve him, not after I defended you over and over. And—oh God, Alex’s father.” I sob even harder. “It was your fault.” How can Alex even stand being around me?

“I knew the Archers would find a way to turn you against me.”

What? “You turned me against you. No one else did that but you, Dad. You. This is all your fault. All of it.” I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. “I am done, Dad. I’m done visiting you. I’m done defending you. I want nothing to do with you.”

I wipe my tears with the back of my hand and then turn and walk away from him. He yells my name desperately, but as hard as it is, I walk out, leaving him in prison by himself. As he deserves.