Dane
Bert ushered him back into that little office, making small talk about work and weddings. Dane just grunted, his mind spinning. He knew he didn't have time for this, but he also kind of needed it.
He took the seat Bert offered him—it was unlikely his dad was coming for him now, after all—and waited.
Bert sat in his chair and smiled, his hands on his lap. "How's married life treating you?" he said.
Dane swallowed. "He's got her."
Bert's brows pinched together. "Who's—wait… Your father?" Bert asked breathlessly, that smile falling off his features.
Dane nodded and rubbed a trembling hand over his face. "He's… shit, Bert, he's got her."
"Have you reported it?!"
"Of course. But you know they can't do anything. Not really."
"Dane, I'm so sorry, I—"
"Don't be. It's my fault. I always knew. I shouldn't have… shouldn't have gotten together with her. I put her in danger." His voice caught.
