Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 119

Adam

I pass through the hospital entrance door, the automatic sliders parting to let me into the sterile, well-lit space. My father is well enough to leave, but I've asked Ted to keep him in a bit longer. We need time to plan our moves, and with my mother under the impression that Dad is still in the ICU, she won't suspect anything. My heart pounds against my ribcage; I'm nervous to talk to my dad. The right words elude me, but it feels like there aren't any that can capture the weight of what I have to tell him.

I take the elevator, the ascent feeling slower than usual. My destination is the cardiology clinic, where Mallory is. I need to see her, gather some strength before facing the daunting conversation that awaits me. As the elevator doors open, I step out and scan the area. There she is, standing in a corridor, engaged in conversation with someone. A pang of jealousy hits me. Who is this guy?

I quicken my pace, and Mallory notices me. She turns to the guy and points at me. "This is Adam," she says. He turns around, disappointment coloring his face. I stand next to Mallory, wrapping my arm around her waist protectively, possessively. Mallory places a hand on my chest and kisses me on the lips, lingering for a moment. I cup her cheek with my other hand, and as we break the kiss, I look deeply into her eyes. "Hey," I say.

"I missed you," she coos. I smile at her and kiss her forehead, then turn my attention to the man in front of me as Mallory returns to my side. "And you are?" I inquire.

"Tom," he says flatly.

"Tom works here at the hospital; he's a nurse. We met last week, and he suggested we spend time outside of work. I told him that we should do that. I think you two are really going to like each other," Mallory explains. I manage to stifle my laughter; she's so smart, pushing the guy away so elegantly.

Tom clears his throat. "Yeah, we should definitely do that. I should get going," he says and leaves quickly.

"Bye, Tom," I call after him, and he throws up a hand. Once he turns the corner, Mallory looks at me and giggles. I pull her closer, my hands tightening around her. "You didn't tell me there was a guy hitting on you here," I say.

Mallory grins. "Well, it wasn't anything I couldn't handle," she says.

"Still. I would like to know," I insist and kiss her nose.

"I don't think it's going to be an issue now. He's going to tell everyone about you, so that's that," she says.

"Not enough. I'll pay you more visits here. I don't want anyone getting any wrong ideas," I declare, leaning in to kiss her neck. I whisper in her ear, "You are mine, Mallory," and she shivers. I nip at her earlobe, and Mallory pushes on my chest. "Adam! Not here!" she says.

I chuckle and relax my grip on her. "Okay," I say. She smiles at me, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. Her expression falters. "Are you here to talk to your father?" she asks, and I nod solemnly. I wish I could ask Mallory to be there for me, but this is a conversation I have to have alone with my dad.

"I'll be right there if you need me," she assures me, and I smile. "Thank you, baby," I say, kissing her softly on the lips. "I should go," I whisper, and she nods, her eyes full of concern. I pull away, kissing her hand before letting it go, then turn away from her.

I head to my father's room, feeling less anxious than before but still uneasy about the conversation that awaits. I take the elevator to the VIP suites.

The numbers light up as each floor passes, and I watch them until the doors slide open. Stepping out, I walk down the corridor to my dad's room.

"Hey, Dad," I say upon entering. He's lying on the bed, a smile on his face, TV remote in hand. "Adam! Thank God, I really needed some company today," he says. I approach him, embracing him in a hug before sitting on the chair next to his bed. "What happened?" I ask.

"Nothing! Nothing happened, that's the problem. I am bored out of my mind, Adam," he says, and I chuckle. He's always doing something, so being confined to a bed is likely driving him crazy. "Did Ted say when I can leave the hospital?" he asks.

"Well, that's what I've come to talk to you about, Dad," I say. His expression shifts. "What is it?" he asks.

"Ted told me that you're well enough to leave, but I asked him to keep you in so we could talk first," I explain. Concern fills his eyes. "What happened, son?" he asks.

"Dad... Fuck, I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it, and then I'll explain everything, okay?" I say, and he nods. "Dad, Mom has been cheating on you," I confess.

My dad's expression freezes, as if he can't comprehend what I just told him. He doesn't even blink. "Dad?" I say, but there's no response. I reach for his hand. "Dad?" I repeat.

"How do you know?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Remember when I left home, I took some of the books you had in the library with me?" I say, and he nods.

"I found some letters in a book," I reveal.

"Which book?" he asks, surprising me. Does it really matter?

"Was it Pride and Prejudice?" he asks, and I confirm, "Yeah, how did you..."

Before I can finish, my father leans back, pinching his eyes closed. "Your mother has been searching for this book for a long time. I never told her that you took some books with you; I didn't find it important. She never read them anyway, so it struck me as weird when she kept asking about that book. I didn't think much of it," he says, his voice breaking.

"Dad, I'm so sorry."

"How could I be so blind?" he mumbles, and I sigh. "Dad, it's not your fault. You weren't blind; she was just extra careful. She had to be, considering the prenup you have," I say, attempting to console him. I don't know how to comfort him. I feel helpless.

"Who are they from?" he asks.

"Someone named John," I admit, and his face contorts with anger. His hands clench into fists, and I can see the storm of emotions brewing within him. "John?" he shouts, startling me.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he keeps yelling, the anger in his voice escalating and confusing the hell out of me. "Dad, who is he?" I ask, desperate for answers. My dad looks at me, his eyes full of anger and pain. "You know him, Adam. It has to be him. Think, son. Who is the only John we know?" he says, and my heart skips a beat. It never even crossed my mind.

My godfather.