Damienâs brow furrowed. Even now, after everything, Cherise was still worried about Beckhanâs feelings.
Thinking about Beckhamâs cold shoulder to her, Damien cherished Cherise even more.
He reached up, tilting her chin to meet his gaze. âWhy do you care what he thinks? Does he matter that much to you?â
Cherise, eyes clear and determined, nodded. âOf course! Heâs my dad!â
Sure, their relationship wasnât as close as Elvisâs couple, but the blood tie was undeniable. Of course, she cared!
Damien, his eyes full of unspoken emotion, brushed a kiss against her lips. âThereâs no need to worry about him anymore. He already knows.â
Cherise froze. âHow⦠how does he know?â
Cheriseâs stomach twisted.
The news was barely a day old, and how come Dad already knew before she and Lyra did?
Her suspicions landed on Damien, her eyes flashing. âWas it you? You told him?â
Damien didnât flinch. He held her gaze with a calmness that felt like a slap in the face. âYes. I went straight to him after what went down last night.â
Cherise felt the air thicken, her heart hammering against her ribs. Why would Damien keep this from her? She stared at him, speechless.
Suddenly, she turned her anger towards Damien. âDonât you know how much this will hurt him? Why tell him before me?â
Anger, raw and sharp, edged her voice. It was understandable, Damien knew, but a knot of worry twisted in his gut.
In Cheriseâs mind, Damien was always the careful one, the one who weighed every move. Why would he do something she knew would cut Dad so deep?
Damien, his smile a little sad, tucked a stray hair behind Cheriseâs ear. âCherry, I know youâre worried sick about your dad. Itâs because youâre seeing things as his daughter, but Iâm not.â
Cherise, still fuming, kept her hand away. She wasnât ready for intimacy. âThen how do you see it?â
Damienâs eyes softened with love and concern. âAs your husband. From the moment you reconciled with the Tanners, Iâve watched how Beckham treats you. The only daughter of the Tanner family, his favorite womanâs child, yet he treats you worse than Gwenn, his adopted daughter.â
Cherise wanted to argue, but he touched her lips, silencing her.
His voice, deep and rough, filled the room. âCherry, I know you donât care about fancy names or riches.
But as your man, it boils my blood to see your family push you aside. Youâre the best woman in the world, better than anyone. So I canât stand Beckham treating you like yesterdayâs trash. I want him to see he picked the wrong favorite.â
He stared at her, his jaw set. âI know this might piss you off, doing this behind your back. But thatâs what husbands do, right? Take the punches for their wives. Whatever you throw at me, I deserve it.â
Cherise bit her lip, finding herself at a loss for words to counter her husband.
How could I refute him? After all, heâs merely stating facts; my fatherâs favoritism towards Gwenn is undeniable.