It took a day and a half, but pretty soon we had had our fill of each other enough to be able to finally be around other people, even though Lydia's sexual appetite was almost insatiable but I wasn't complaining one bit.

I made sure to be gentle with her even though she objected to that notion. Once we got the news that she was able to resume normal activities we had pretty much been slaves to our desire that we'd had to ignore for so long.

The reality of the outside world finally creeped back in one morning as she realized that it was time to attend classes once again. I was hesitant to have her go by herself so I dropped her off and made sure that Lydia was fine before leaving her to her schoolwork and suddenly I found myself at the hotel where her parents were staying, and I assumed Lucas as well even though he'd recently found an apartment in the area.

I had no idea what I was doing until I was on the elevator on the way up to their room, and even then I almost talked myself out of it but deep down I knew it was the right thing. If my parents were still alive and we were in the same position as Lydia and her parents, I would have wanted someone to butt in for us.

Her parents were alive and were actually trying to make amends and be in her life, something I'd never have, and I didn't want her to regret later not having tried everything to make things right.

My fist was raised and knocking on the door before I knew what I was doing and her mother answered shortly after, hair and makeup impeccable, not a single thread out of place on her expensive attire.

Her mother was a different breed- something I wasn't particularly used to. I was used to a mother with bags under her eyes, the wrinkles more prominent from the constant drug use and frowning.

I was used to bruises coloring her features, monosyllable words and a blank stare that didn't reach her eyes, eyes that actually showed the trauma and pain she was going through no matter how hard she'd tried to hide it behind her emotionless facade.

Lydia's mother was different. She wore a mask, too, but hers was to try and show the outside world that she was perfect when I knew that that was the farthest thing from the truth.

"Emmett. What can I do for you?"

There was a slight tinge of ice to her words and while I knew that she still didn't approve of my relationship with Lydia, she also knew that I loved her and that I would do anything to take care of and protect her, even from her mother.

"I wanted to talk to you about Lydia, you, Jonathon and Lucas. May I come in?"

She skimmed her dark eyes up and down my attire and I almost wished I'd changed out of my workout wear but then realized that this wasn't about me- it was about Lydia, and I was going to try my best to make her life easier, even in a way that she probably wouldn't appreciate at first.

"Of course. Jonathon- Emmett is here."

She opened the door wide and I gave the Presidential suite of the hotel a once over. It was extravagant and much too spacious for just two people, but if they could afford it, then who was I to judge?

I took a seat on the decorative sofa in the middle of the large suite and waited patiently for Lydia's father to join us. I had always liked him more than her mother- he'd never treated Lydia any differently just because of the horrors she'd endured, unlike her mother, who had pretty much blamed her for things that were out of her control.

I compared her to my mother, then. While my mother had chosen drugs and alcohol and an abusive partner over her only son, I viewed Lydia's mother in almost the same category.

She'd chosen acclaim and social standing over her only daughter's word- she'd blamed Lydia for being assaulted, didn't believe it wasn't her fault and had made her feel worthless, and there was no excuse for that behavior. I knew she'd apologized to Lydia for what she'd done, but it was even worse that she knew it was wrong while she'd done it and yet she did it anyway.

I felt nothing for disdain for the woman in that moment, but I knew in order to move forward that I had to put that behind me and try and mend the angst and brokenness in the family sitting before me.

Jonathon set me with a thoughtful glance and laced his fingers together on his lap in front of me.

"Emmett, son, what can we do for you?"

"I'm here on Lydia's behalf. She won't say it, but she needs a strong support system behind her to get her through this time in her life, and that means she needs her family. I know that you have started trying to mend things between her, but I feel like the only way to work through some of those deep seated issues is to have a sit down as a family and work through it all together."

Lydia's mother's eyes went wide and her father nodded his head slowly in understanding. Her mother, however, was the first to speak up about the idea in question.

"Well, do you think that would help? She's so stubborn and hardly ever listens to reason."

"I think if you come to her rationally and with your heart on your sleeve, Lydia will appreciate the gesture. I won't be there, so you can have this time as a family."

"Well...if you really think it will help. I'll try anything. We spoke just the other day but she was just as closed off and cold as she's always been. I've been trying to make amends and I know that nothing will happen overnight, but I really want to make things better between us. I hate this tension. I can't go back and change how I did things in the past, but I can control how I move forward in our relationship."

I slowly started seeing her mother in a different light. Mine never would have tried this hard to make things better.

"Great. Well, I'll make sure to make myself scarce tonight and you can all come over to the apartment, even Lucas?"

"That sounds perfect, son," her father told me, and I felt a surge of pride as her father called me 'son'. It had been so long since someone had called me that fondly, besides one of my coaches.

I had plenty of male figures in my life, but most of them only were proud of me because of how well I played on the field, not because of my character and integrity in my personal life.

My phone began ringing and I excused myself from them, telling them I'd see them later that night, and ducked out to answer the call.

"What's up?"

"Emmett, it's Derek. I have some...concerning news."

Derek was my recently hired PR manager, and while his news was almost always concerning, I asked him what it was impatiently while waiting for the ride share app on my phone to load in the lobby.

"Well, some information about your past has come to light."

"What information?"

I immediately took the phone off of speaker and pressed it tightly to my ear, desperate to find out what exactly had happened. My gut twisted in my stomach, like a knife was searing into my abdomen.

"There's a few articles on your parents and how you were a ward of the state. There's something else, too. There is someone claiming that they're...related to you. He was the whistleblower about your past in the first place."

"What? I mean, I'm sure I have relatives somewhere but I don't remember any of them. My grandparents on both sides were dead by the time my mother died and I was put in foster care. I was never adopted and never had any connections with my foster families. I was shipped from house to house until I graduated, and by then I had a scholarship for football and didn't need anyone or anything."

"This man says he's your uncle, and that there's something about your past that you don't know. He contacted your manager directly. Do you want his phone number?"

Did I want his phone number? There was something about my past that I didn't know about? Of course I wanted his phone number, I had to find out what it was.

"Yes," I growled out even more impatiently than the first time.

"Okay. I'll text it over to you."

"Wait."

"Yeah?"

"What's his name?"

"Jesse Scott."

So he was my dad's brother, considering he had our last name. My mother's maiden name was Regan.

"My uncle, huh?"

"Yeah. You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Be sure to send his number over."

"Sure thing."

And then he hung up and I was left staring at a phone number to a stranger who hadn't bothered calling or finding me before, when my dad was beating the shit out of me and my mother was sharing her time between the bottom of a bottle and the sharp end of a needle.

I pocketed my phone and promised myself I'd call later...although I wasn't sure what later would mean when I forgot all about him just like he'd forgotten all about me until I got famous and there was something in it for him.

He could wait as long as I had to find out I had an uncle out there for all I cared but I would be lying if I said I wasn't curious about his promise that there was something about my past I didn't know about, but I had a feeling that once I opened that can of worms, my life was going to change forever.