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How you’re related to such an asshole…
Her words twist around in my head.
Why my father treats me differently than my brothers.
Why he’s always held something against me that I couldn’t quite piece together.
Why he’s never told me he’s proud of me.
What if…
It’s almost too crazy a thought to have, but what if.
“What are you thinking?” she says.
I shake my head a little as I try to put voice to the thoughts suddenly swirling in my head. “What if I’m not related to him? And what if he knew that, and that’s why he’s always treated me the way he has?”
“Wait…” Her brows dip together as she climbs off my lap. She sits beside me. “What?”
I stand and start pacing as this starts to make real sense to me. “Asher looks exactly like him. Right? And Grayson and Spencer, they have more of his features, too. But me, I’m the odd one out. They all have dark hair and blue eyes, but I look like my mom. Light brown hair, dark brown eyes.” I stop and set my hands on my hips. “What if he’s not my dad at all, and that’s what he’s held against me all this time?”
“If he’s not your dad…who would be, Linc?”
I shrug. It’s a great question, and one that I certainly don’t have the answer to. But it suddenly makes so much sense to me, and at some point, I think I need to confront my mother with these questions.
Have I been lied to my entire life?
Maybe. Am I even a Nash?
Who knows.
It feels strange to even think it, but for the first time in my life, I’m starting to feel like I might be closer to finding the answers I’ve been searching for.
CHAPTER 19: JOLENE
It’s been a whirlwind twenty-four hours, or few months, I guess, and I realize now I never called Jeremy back.
He’s being transferred to Chicago.
This is like every dream of mine coming true all at once, and in truth, it’s overwhelming.
I call my lawyer first, and I learn that if Jeremy is the one moving, he’s the one who’s changing our custody arrangement…and he needs my permission to move. Well, consider that permission granted.
Jonah’s supposed to go to Jeremy’s place this weekend, too, but I don’t even know what’s going on, so I eventually work up the nerve to call him.
He’s at work, so he answers in his professional voice. “Jeremy Landry.”
“You know it’s me,” I say.
“I also know it bothers you when I answer like that.”
I blow out a breath. “I’m just returning your call.”
“My boss is transferring me to Chicago. I need your permission to go, and we’ll have to go over the custody arrangement.”
“I’ll give you my permission on one condition,” I counter.
“What’s that?”
