eye roll, and looked away.
Getty clenched his jaw and told himself not to make a scene. He was pretty sure all the fights she and his dad had had were because she started them. She looked the type. It was probably their fighting that put him in the clinic.
The woman was toxic, selfish, petty, and if Getty never saw her again, it would be too soon. “I’m asking nicely for you to give us some privacy.”
“What, is your boyfriend going to come in here and kick me out?”
And there it was. She’d been chomping at the bit to say those words out loud, to expose him, though she’d already whispered the truth into Richard’s ear.
She wanted to see Getty and his dad fight, to tear them apart. Getty had faced true evil over the past week, but the truest evil was staring right at him.
“Yeah, he will.” Getty had spoken calmly, his voice low, but the meaning crystal clear. “Should I call him in here?”
“Richard, your son should leave. I don’t need him upsetting you.” She tucked his blanket at his side, as if she really cared. In some fucked-up way, she probably did, but it would never be in the way that Getty did.
His dad looked at Bimbo, and the scorch in his eyes was palpable. “Leave us, Amanda.”
“But…” She stood so fast her chair scooted a few inches. Her lips pulled back, showing her teeth. She shot a finger at Getty as she glared at Richard. “I just told you he was kissing on a guy in the waiting room and you want to talk to him? What you need to be telling him is to get out.”
Getty pressed his hands on the bed and leaned forward. “Have you quickly forgotten that it’s my house that you’re living in? My food that you’re eating? My utilities that you’re using? You’re not even worth my energy right now. My dad said to go, so get the hell out.”
With an indignant huff, she stormed from the room. If it hadn’t been one of those doors that stopped at the last second and slowly closed, she would’ve slammed it.
His dad sighed.
“What did the doctor say?” Getty sat in her vacated seat.
“Mild heart attack.” He closed his eyes and then opened them. “I’m not getting any younger, son.”
There were so many things Getty wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask. But his dad looked as though he’d aged a decade since he last saw him.
“I know you don’t like her, Getty. Amanda can be rough around the edges, but—”
“But you don’t want to be alone.” Getty now understood his father. If Getty had to be alone again, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it. Donnchadh had shown him so much, had made him feel wanted, needed, and loved. There was an ache in Getty’s heart to run to Donnchadh, even though his warrior wasn’t that far away.
The warrior had erased Getty’s loneliness, even though Getty hadn’t thought he needed anyone, but he’d been wrong, and there was no way he could go back to his old life. Not after having his eyes open to someone as special as Donnchadh.
“Can I meet him?” Richard asked. He held up a hand. “No judgment. If you want the truth, I’ve kind of always suspected. It doesn’t matter to me.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Who am I to judge? I’m a piece of shit who never deserved you.”
Those words were an echo of Rocco’s, but Richard meant them, whereas Rocco had been indifferent, almost bored with Getty’s presence after his initial curiosity.
And in that moment, Getty didn’t want to tell his dad that he’d met his biological father. It didn’t matter and wouldn’t change anything. And what if Richard had no idea about his wife’s affair? Getty didn’t want to break his dad’s heart, even though they’d been divorced for some time now.
“Sure.” Getty gave him a smile as he got up and stuck his head out the door. It was no surprise that Donnchadh was right there in the hallway. Getty waved him in.
“Dad, this is Donnchadh.” Getty took Donnchadh’s hand and led him to the bed. “And this is Richard, my father.”
“You can call me Donny, sir.” Donnchadh shook Richard’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You’re a big one.” His dad tried to sit up, his arms wobbly, so Donnchadh helped him, even fluffing the pillow behind his head. “I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure what