Stephen
By the time Evan pulled the SUV to the curb outside the loft, I had already gone through half a dozen conversations in my head.
In one version, I demanded answers.
In another, I told my father exactly how angry I was that he’d kept something this important from me.
In every single one of them, someone walked away upset.
Laura had a way of ruining my dramatic speeches.
Before I’d left the penthouse that morning, she’d wrapped her arms around my waist while I poured my coffee and quietly said, “Don’t go over there looking for a confession. Go over there because he’s your dad.”
Simple.
Direct.
Completely impossible to argue with.
So that was exactly what I intended to do.
Evan climbed out of the driver’s seat and walked around to open my door.
“Would you like me to wait, M
