Lahat ng Kabanata ng Yes, Alpha Daddy: Kabanata 291 - Kabanata 300

MAX POV I smiled. “I would hope so. I certainly believe so. Feel free to ask her for yourself.”He fixed me in a stare. “Would you not consider making a choice, Max? If you chose to be with Cloe, I’d be very happy about the situation.”I stared right back. “I’m not even going to grace that question with an answer, Ryan.”“You must understand,” he said. “She’s my daughter, Max, she’s my little girl.”“And she’s very happy. We’re all very happy.”He sighed. “You’d understand,” he said. “If you had a daughter.”“With all due respect, I wouldn’t,” I said. “Love is love, Ryan. Commitment is commitment. Integrity and consideration and communication, honesty and genuine care, compassion, support… Those are the things that make a worthwhile relationship, whether that’s two people, or three people, or ten people.” I willed him to listen. To understand. “We have all of those things, so no, Ryan, I wouldn’t understand the preference of the status quo over a situation where three people have fou

CLOE POV I used to think dreams were constant and unchanging, that they’d last a lifetime. Maybe some dreams do. Maybe others ebb and flow, dull and fade to be replaced by others. Maybe some dreams return from the ashes. The dream of a father who loves you, for instance. I took a breath, cherishing the moment, head collar in hand as I made my way across wood-chippings to fetch my furry boy. Our big day. The day we’d been training for. The day I’d been waiting for. I tried not to let Carlson’s words dampen my spirit, ignoring the sadness in my belly. I now knew with certainty my dream of this place was really over. I’d seen the letter, in black and white, the bank’s intention to repossess in twenty-eight days should a buyer not be found. The little girl in me cried out that I should take Max’s generous offer and have this place as my own, but I’d never do that. I’d never swap my dream for one of his I may never be able to fulfil. I called my boy, and he came running. I slipped on

MAX POV That horrible moment when time stands still. When you see the inevitable, the horror unfolds right in front of you, but you are powerless to do shit about it. I couldn’t tell you the moment my breath caught in my throat, when that instinctual sense of dread enveloped me and chilled me to the bone. Their jump just didn’t look right, didn’t feel right, and had me pushing through to the barrier before they’d even fallen, helpless and petrified as our beautiful girl went tumbling. Tino’s legs went from under him, and he went forward, and God, they landed so hard, both of them, and there was a scream, a horrible scream as she took his weight, a horrible thump as they landed and slid. And then she was still. Our beautiful girl was still. Tino writhed on the floor, and there was blood. His eyes were wild and frantic, his instincts raging as the officials rushed over. And so did we. Soren and Zara, and Ryan, too. All four of us are piling over the rope. Cloe’s eyes fluttered a

CLOE POV The words no rider wants to hear. A tibial plateau fracture. I mean, I’m no fool. I knew it was bad. I knew as soon as I landed, I even heard the crack. It sounded like a twig breaking, the most surreal sound. And then there’d be pain. So much pain. Fear, too. Fear for me, but mainly for Tino. My poor furry boy. I was delivered to some posh hospital, courtesy of my father, and for once I didn’t argue about taking something from him. I just wanted to walk again, wanted to ride again one day, and if he was my best shot, then I’d take it gladly. I was kept in for over a week. The first days were the worst days. Confined to my bed, in agony every time a muscle twitched, every time I shifted in half-sleep. They brought me a wheelchair after three days, but getting in and out of it was an ordeal, all for the reward of Soren, Max or Mum wheeling me up and down the corridor awhile. One day we made it outdoors, just to the hospital’s twee little garden, but I didn’t want to be

CLOE POV Life is so weird. So good and so bad all at once. Verity was right about the yard. It was mine. Signed, sealed, and delivered. “I was going to tell you,” Max said. “I would have bought it myself, but your father wouldn’t budge on it.” He paused. “I wanted to let him tell you, when you were ready to hear it. Ready to see him.” “But why? How did he?” I stared, and he met my eyes, just one short glance before he pulled the car onto the main road, and I knew. “How much did you tell him?” “Enough.” “I see.” I smiled. “Did you tell him about my cruddy music taste? About my silly rabbit slippers?” “Oh yes,” he said. “I told him a lot. I told him how you eat your eggs in the morning, how you’ll only watch horror if you can watch kids’ TV straight after, how you insist on leaping three stairs at a time when you’re in a rush in the morning.” “Not anymore.” “You will again. You’ve just got to believe it.” He reached out for my hand. “Oh, and I told him how you read the backs