“I never thought he’d let you work in the company, Addi. Believe me when I said that meeting you there… I didn’t plan for it. I didn’t plan for you.”

“But you don’t regret it.”

He pursed his lips.

“I regret a lot of things in life, but meeting you? Never.” He said it like it was a vow. “You’re important, Addi. You’re important to me. You always have been.”

My eyes started to water again.

Damn him. Damn him for being like this.

I needed to know something else, so I just came out and asked him.

“Why is my father’s death date your password?”

He sighed and refused to look at me.

“Warren…”

“Because I lost my best friend that day, but it was also the day when I knew I’d lost you. I would never have you again.”

I wanted him to be bad. Wanted to hate him. I didn’t want to feel these things. Feel something so warm for him that it could be mistaken for lov⁠—

I opened my mouth to speak, but the door was pushed open. I swiveled to look at Tristian, who didn’t even blink at our position.

“Addison, your mother’s awake.”

32

ADDISON

Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. I felt them all. But the emotion that was most prominent on my mother’s face was… anger.

Not anger because the person responsible for Father’s death was at my side. Or that our relationship might be more than just business.

Anger that I had dared question her.

“Treating myself with the money was the least I could have done,” she spat. “After everything your father did? I deserved it.”

I reached forward to take my mother’s hand, but she pulled it away. It stung enough to bring the tears back to my eyes.

I hated it when she was like this. Like a child when they didn’t get their way. But I had long since understood that this was the type of person she was.

Her body might have aged, but she would always remain the naïve, spoiled, twenty-something-year-old she had been when Father married her.

There were times when I wished for another mother. A harder-working one. A more caring one. But wishing never got me anywhere in life.

“I’m not blaming you,” I said in the softest tone imaginable, even as a war was raging inside me. “I just want to know where it is. The hospital bills are no joke, and four million dollars would pay off all of it and then some⁠—”

“What kind of daughter are you, rushing into my room as soon as I wake up and accosting me?” I flinched at her tone. Pain radiated from my chest. “Where’s my sweet daughter? No, I’m so glad you’re alive, Mom? No, I've missed you so much⁠—”