“I can handle Jordan,” I said.
I walked into the living room, needing to move away from the kitchen window that looked out over the empty pool. The smell of chlorine always lingered in the summer air, a reminder of the days when the house was full of laughter.
Chloe followed me, her expression showing the kind of anger that only fifteen-year-olds can carry.
“Percy is his whole life now,” Chloe said. “She is not going to let him come to our house alone.”
The mistress’s name felt like a physical weight in the small room.
“Then they will both sit in the yard,” I said, though my chest felt tight and my heart began to race in a way I could not control.
“He will use it to show off,” Chloe said. “He wants you to see them together so he can feel like he won.”
“I am forty-five years old, Chloe,” I said. “I am not a child who needs to be protected from her father’s poor choices.”
“He thinks you are weak,” she said.
