My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 108 DADDY

NOVA POV

I woke up at dawn with my stomach in knots.

The boys were still asleep, curled up together like they’d been in the womb. Phoenix’s arm was draped over Asher, protective even in sleep. They had no idea their entire world was about to change.

Seven forty-five a.m. Fifteen minutes until Grant arrived.

I’d barely slept. Just stared at the ceiling all night, replaying every possible way to tell my sons that the man they called Dad wasn’t really their father. That a stranger they’d met once was. That we were leaving everything they’d ever known.

There was no good way to do this. No script that would make it hurt less.

Sam’s door hadn’t opened all night. I’d listened for it, hoping he’d come knock, tell me we’d figure this out together. But he hadn’t. And I didn’t blame him.

I’d destroyed him. Used six years of his life and threw it away the moment Grant appeared.

"Mama?"

I turned to see Asher sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Good morning, baby."

"Why are you up so early?"

"We need to talk. Can you wake up Phoenix for me?"

Asher shook his brother awake, and soon both boys were sitting on the bed, looking at me with identical grey eyes—Grant’s eyes—full of sleepy confusion.

"Are we going home today?" Phoenix asked, yawning.

Home, they were referring to Petals Creek, the only home they’d ever known.

"Actually, we’re going somewhere else," I said, sitting on the bed with them. "Somewhere new."

"Like a vacation?" Asher perked up.

"Kind of. But longer." I took a breath. This was it. "Do you boys remember the man we met yesterday? Mr. Calloway?"

"The scary one?" Phoenix asked.

My heart clenched. "He’s not scary. He’s just... he’s someone very important. Someone I need to tell you about."

"Is he Grandma’s friend?" Asher asked. They’d taken to calling my godmother Grandma even though she’d never acted like one.

"No, baby. He’s..." God, how do I say this? "Do you remember how some of your friends at school have dads who don’t live with them? Who do visit sometimes?"

Phoenix nodded slowly. "Like Tommy. His dad lives in another state."

"Right. Well, Mr. Calloway is... he’s your father. Your real father."

There was silence and both boys stared at me like I’d spoken a foreign language.

"But Dad is our dad," Asher said, confused.

"Sam has been taking care of you like a dad. And he loves you very much. But Mr. Calloway is your actual father. He’s the one who... who helped make you."

"I don’t understand," Phoenix’s voice got smaller. "Where was he before?"

"He didn’t know about you. I didn’t tell him." The guilt in my chest was suffocating. "That was my mistake. But now he knows, and he wants to be your dad. He wants to take care of you."

"But we already have a dad!" Phoenix’s voice rose, panic creeping in. "We don’t need a new one!"

"Where’s Dad?" Asher looked toward Sam’s room. "Is Dad coming with us?"

"No, baby. Dad—Sam—he’s staying here."

"Why?" Asher’s eyes filled with tears. "Why can’t Dad come?"

"Because Mr. Calloway is your real father, and he wants you to come live with him for a while."

"I don’t want to!" Phoenix was crying now too. "I want to go home! I want Dad!"

"I know, I know." I pulled them both close, their little bodies shaking with sobs. "I know this is scary and confusing. But Mr. Calloway—your father—he’s a good man. He’s been looking for us for a long time. And he can give you things that Sam and I can’t. A big house, good schools, everything you could ever want."

"I don’t want a big house!" Phoenix sobbed into my shoulder. "I want Dad! I want to go home!"

"Me too," Asher whimpered. "Mama, please. I don’t want a new dad."

A knock at the door. It was brief and sharp. Meaning it’s Eight a.m. time is up.

"That’s him," I whispered, my own tears falling now. "That’s your father."

"No!" Phoenix clung to me. "No, make him go away!"

Another knock.

I gently extracted myself from the boys and opened the door.

Grant stood there in a perfectly tailored suit, looking every inch the billionaire. Behind him, Ivin held two large shopping bags.

"Good morning," Grant said, his eyes moving past me to where the boys sat on the bed, crying. His expression flickered between pain, guilt and determination. "Are they ready?"

"They’re scared," I said quietly. "They don’t understand."

"Then help them understand." He stepped inside, and I saw him try to soften his posture, his expression. "Hello, boys."

Phoenix and Asher pressed closer together, staring at him with tear-streaked faces.

"I know you’re confused," Grant said, kneeling down to their level. "And I know this is scary. But I’m your father. Your real father. And I’ve been looking for you for a very long time."

"We don’t know you," Asher said, his voice small but defiant.

"You’re right. You don’t. But I want you to know me. I want to know you." Grant’s voice was gentle, but I could hear the emotion underneath. "Your mother and I... we made you...created you. And I’ve missed six years of watching you grow up. I don’t want to miss any more."

"Where were you?" Phoenix demanded through his tears. "Why didn’t you come before?"

Grant looked at me, and I saw the accusation there even though he didn’t voice it. "I didn’t know where you were. Your mother... she had to leave, and she didn’t tell me you existed. But that’s not her fault. She was protecting you. And now I’m here, and I want to protect you too."

"We have Dad for that," Asher said.

"Sam," Grant said carefully, "is a good man who’s taken care of you. But he’s not your father. I am. And I can give you things he can’t."

"We don’t want things!" Phoenix shouted. "We want Dad!"

Grant’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice calm. "I know. But sometimes we don’t get what we want. Sometimes we have to accept what’s real." He gestured to Ivin, who brought forward the shopping bags. "I brought you something. To help with the trip."

He pulled out two expensive state-of-the-art tablets. "These have games, movies, books and anything you want. And these—" he pulled out two stuffed animals, a wolf and a lion, "—I thought you might like them."

The boys stared at the gifts but didn’t reach for them.

"I don’t want them," Phoenix said.

"Phoenix—" I started.

"I don’t want them! I want to go home! I want Dad.... I want Sam!"

"Phoenix, that’s enough," Grant’s voice hardened slightly. "I understand you’re upset. But this is happening. Your mother and I have decided you’re coming to live with me. You can make this easy or hard, but either way, we’re leaving in ten minutes."

"You can’t make us!" Phoenix jumped off the bed. "You’re not our dad! Dad Sam is our dad, and I want him!"

The door to Sam’s room opened.

Sam stood there, dressed but looking like he hadn’t slept at all. His eyes were red, his face drawn. He looked at the scene from the crying boys, me trying not to fall apart, Grant kneeling with his expensive gifts and something in his expression broke.

"Dad!" Both boys ran to him, wrapping themselves around his legs. "Dad, please don’t let him take us! Please!"

Sam closed his eyes, his hands coming to rest on their heads. "Boys—"

"Please, Dad! We’ll be good! We’ll do whatever you want! Just don’t let the scary man take us!"

"He’s not scary," Sam said quietly, and I watched him force the words out. "He’s your father. Your real father."

"You’re our real father!" Asher sobbed.

"No, buddy. I’m not." Sam crouched down, pulling them both into a hug. "I’m the guy who got lucky enough to be your dad for a while. But this man—Mr. Calloway—he’s your actual father. He’s the one who’s supposed to take care of you."

"But we want you!" Phoenix buried his face in Sam’s chest.

"I know. I know you do." Sam’s voice cracked. "And I want you too. But sometimes what we want isn’t what’s best. And your father—" he looked at Grant, and I saw all the pain and anger there, "—he can give you everything. A real family and a stable future. Everything I can’t."

"We don’t want that!" Asher cried. "We just want you!"

Sam pulled back, looking at each of them. "I need you both to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?"

They nodded, still crying.

"I love you. Both of you. More than anything in this world. You’ve been my sons in every way that matters. But Mr. Calloway is right. He’s your father by blood, and he has rights. He wants to be your dad. And your mom—" he looked at me, "—she thinks this is what’s best for you."

"It’s not!" Phoenix insisted.

"Maybe not right now. But one day, you’ll understand." Sam stood up, gently pushing them toward me. "Go with your mom. Be good. Listen to your father. And remember that I’ll always love you."

"Dad—"

"Go." Sam’s voice broke. "Please. Just go."

I gathered the boys, both of them crying, reaching back for Sam. Grant stood, his expression unreadable as he watched.

"Thank you," Grant said to Sam. "For taking care of them."

Sam didn’t respond, instead he turned and walked back into his room, closing the door and locking it behind him.

"Come on," I whispered to the boys, my own tears falling freely now. "We need to get our things."

It took twenty minutes to pack up our lives. The boys cried the whole time, begging to stay, to see Sam, to go home. Grant stood silent, watching, his hands clenched at his sides.

When we finally walked out to the parking lot, Grant’s car was waiting. Black, expensive, with Ivin at the wheel.

"Get in," Grant said gently.

"I don’t want to!" Phoenix tried to run, but I caught him.

"Phoenix, please. Please, baby. I know this is hard, but we have to go."

"I hate you!" He screamed at me. "I hate you for making us leave Dad!"

The words cut deeper than anything else could have.

Grant picked Phoenix up—firm but not rough—and put him in the car seat Ivin had installed. Asher climbed in himself, silent now except for quiet sobs.

I slid in next to them, and Grant got in the front.

As we pulled away, I looked back at the motel. Sam stood in the window of his room, watching us leave.

Our eyes met for just a second.

Then Ivin turned the corner, and he was gone.

"Mama?" Asher’s small voice broke the silence. "Are we ever going to see Dad again?"

I looked at Grant’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He met my eyes but said nothing.

"I don’t know, baby," I whispered. "I don’t know."

Phoenix buried his face in my side, his little body shaking with sobs. "I want Dad. I want Dad. I want Dad."

He chanted it like a prayer. Like maybe if he said it enough times, it would undo everything that had just happened.

But it wouldn’t.

Because Grant Calloway always got what he wanted.

And what he wanted was us, All of us. Even if it broke us in the process.