Roses

Chapter 43

Zoey

At this point, I think every time someone reveals something about my past, that I didn't know, I should just laugh. Or take a shot.

Abraham waits patiently for my initial shock to wear off. He seems far too composed, considering he found out only a day ago. But then he told me a few things about his marriage with Helena, Adam's mother, including how he always knew Adam wasn't his. Guess I'm doing worse than him because both things are news to me.

I hear a scuffle outside and turn to face the door just in time to see Adam barging in. Sam is hot on his heels.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him," Sam rushes to speak.

"It's alright, Samuel," Abraham says calmly, then looking at the newcomer, he adds, "I already told her."

"Was I not supposed to know?" I ask when no one says anything for a minute.

"Let's go. This is none of our business," Abraham says quickly and gets up. Sam goes to assist him but he waves him away like a mosquito. "And," he looks at me, "I don't care what happens after we leave, I'll still be seeing you." His voice is firm and his eyes serious.

When I realize he's waiting for me to acknowledge him, I mumble an 'okay'. He needn't have said that though. He's my father. I may need more time for it to sink in, but I already know I will cherish this bond.

He smiles at me, then leaves, with Sam right behind him. It is only when the door closes that I realize Adam and I are alone.

"I asked you a question." I finally look at him. He looks so handsome it fucking hurts. I hate it.

"How, pray tell, was I supposed to tell you when you refuse to talk to me?" He raises an eyebrow, looking deliciously hot as his eyes blaze with something I know far too well.

Can he see it in my eyes too?

"Like it has stopped you from talking to me," I sneer and start walking towards the kitchen. I need another shot.

Somewhere in my mind it does register that I'm not kicking him out of my house immediately. I tell myself it's because I respect my guests.

He follows me, obviously, and leans against the counter, watching me pour my shot. "You've been drinking way too much lately," he mutters, observing me.

"Well, what can you say? Like father, like daughter." I raise my shot glass. "Cheers."

"You seem to have accepted it quickly."

"Maybe I've just accepted I don't know anything about the past," I admit. "Why didn't you tell me right away?" I ask again when he stays quiet.

"I didn't want you to think I was telling you to win you back. Didn't want you to think it was just another gift." He leans forward, getting a little closer to me and I instantly feel a zap of electricity go down my spine. "Clearly, you're not a fan of those."

I put away the now empty glass and cross my arms. "And who said that?"

I don't know what the fuck is happening between us but it's the most alive I've felt in over a month. I'm not going to stop it.

"So you liked them?" I can see him trying to keep his voice normal, but the hope swimming in his eyes is clear as day.

"I did."

"But not enough," his voice breaks slightly and I feel it right in my heart. God, my feelings for this man scare me.

"You are here, aren't you?" I whisper. The need to make his pain go away is intense.