My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 216

Jacob

As I stepped inside the room, Mom’s words echoed in my head.

"Yes, you might have his blood running in your veins, Jacob, but you are our child, do you hear that?" The soft touch of her hands against my cheek—the same touch that had comforted me since childhood—washed over my senses as I recalled the moment I had looked at her, my eyes filled with tears and disgust for myself, “Enzo and I raised you. If there’s anyone you are like, it’s Enzo. You are his carbon copy, Jacob. Enzo sees himself in you—not that bastard who doesn’t even deserve to be called a father."

My gaze lifted, meeting Evelyn’s tear-filled eyes.

And in that moment, the realization struck me.

"Look at me, Son." Dad had stood before me, for the first time in years, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. But he hadn’t let them fall—I had had learned it from him, “I don’t have much of an explanation for you. But remember this—even God makes mistakes. And in our case, he took our children and handed them to another family. He stole those years from us, Jacob. But when he realized his mistake, he gave us our kids back—you and Bianca." His voice was hoarse, filled with conviction.

"You are our children. Fuck that DNA and all those bullshit theories. I’m telling you today—I am your father. Not that piece of shit. And Rosaline? She is your mother in every fucking aspect. Consider those years you spent with them as lost time, taken from us. But you?" He had stepped closer, gripping my shoulder firmly, “You are you, Jacob. My son. The one who has my habits, who speaks like me, who handles a shit-ton of pressure just fine, who has my bad habits, who loves his woman to death, and who would do anything to protect his family—but never, never think of harming them. Do you hear me?"

"You are my son. That’s all you need to know. Forget everything else."

"Dad..." I had sighed, feeling the pressure in my chest constrict. Too tight. Too much, “I don’t know if I can be a good father."

Mom had let out a quiet sniffle, brushing my hair back the way she always had since I was a kid. Like I was still that same little boy in her eyes.

"You can, and you will, honey," she had whispered, “And even if you fail sometimes, we are always here to pick you up. Evelyn is here. Bianca is here. And for God’s sake, Samuel is here. Do you think he would ever allow you to fail?"

A small, melancholic smile had tugged at my lips.

Mom had continued, her voice softer then.

"No one is perfect, Jacob. No parent is. We’ve all failed at times, made mistakes. But at the end of the day, we were determined to be better for our children. And if we managed to do it—you will, too."

Bianca excused herself, slipping out of the room, leaving only me and Evelyn.

She looked so broken.

Red nose. Tear-streaked cheeks. A complete mess.

I could see it in her eyes—the sheer exhaustion that clung to her. She was tired.

Of course, she was.

She was pregnant. And instead of taking care of her, I had fucked up. Again.

Mom’s final words had been the push I needed.

"Don’t let Evelyn go through this alone, Jacob," she had whispered, while Dad placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

"She is just as scared and restless as you are. And she needs you. Don’t think about what kind of father you’ll be in the future. Think about who you need to be for her now. She’s made a decision that will change her entire life, and if there’s one thing she needs, it’s stability—something to hold onto. And that has to be you."

Those words had stayed with me, pushing me forward.

Even when I walked out of the apartment, Samuel had called me—chewed me out with every curse in the book, called me a coward, an asshole, a loser—before eventually talking me down and helping me find clarity.

Apparently, turning to the people who cared about me was all I needed.

But I had bottled everything up. And in doing so—I had hurt the most precious person in my life.

Evelyn.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify