“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked exhausted.
“Because I knew what you’d do.”
I folded my arms.
“What would I do?”
“You would have driven straight over there and confronted him.”
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it.
He was right.
If he’d told me Brian had threatened to make me regret keeping the house, I probably would have gone there immediately.
Alone.
While Brian was still living inside.
But that didn’t make me feel any less hurt.
“I’m thirty-seven years old,” I said. “You don’t get to keep secrets from me because you think you’re protecting me.”
Dad nodded.
“I know.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know, Nicky.”
He sat down on a bench.
Then he looked up at me.
“Sometimes a father knows his daughter can handle the truth and still makes the wrong decision trying to protect her.”
