Six years ago, Dylan Caldwell was left behind by the love of his life without no clue as to why. It hurt for a long time, but now he has this little ray of sunshine and happiness in his life. His daughter Isabella.
Between being a partner at a firm...
Sorry for not updating for a while. I've been so busy this last month and to top it all off I experienced a major writer's block while trying to write this chapter. I finished it though, hope it's not too bad. If you guys could help me out with some ideas on plot- or character developments or just inspiration for the next chapter, then write a comment and I will take it into consideration😊 Enjoy the chapter!
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Connie was absolutely livid.
She couldn't for the life of her handle the stupidity of her son's actions, and you can bet your ass she was about to let him know that. She sighed tiredly on her way over to Christian and the insanely attractive jock, thinking that maybe it was her fault for letting Bethany take care of Christian as a child. She had probably dropped her younger brother on the floor head first a couple of times.
Bethany decided to join her mother in the cajoling of her younger brother, partially because she was pissed that her brother was either laughably half-witted or straight-up suicidal, but also because she slightly feared that their mother would take one of her eclectic moccasins and use it to slap Christian across his face. To think that he actually had the balls to bring a date to this particular barbecue party - the one hosted by the parents of the man he straight-up ghosted.
The majority of the people who've met their mother would describe Connie Lawson as an animal-loving and free-spirited artist, but the people closest to her knew that if crossed, Connie Lawson would not hesitate to send a flying shoe your way.
Bethany wouldn't wish that upon her worst enemy, and that is why she was currently rushing her way across the Lawsons' yard to attempt to diffuse a seriously messy situation. Her mother had already dragged Christian away from the show pony he'd stupidly invited and had given him a slap to the back of the head.
When she arrived to where they were standing, in front of the giant oak they used to climb as children, her mother's eyes were already bulging. The first warning sign. Bethany flitted her gaze down to her mother's hands, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up at the sight of clenched knuckles. The second sign. If ever a time she actually felt bad for her little brother, this was it.
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