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“Dad!” I responded, shrugging my shoulders mischievously.

CHAPTER FOUR: Cole

My stomach was queasy, but I needed to make this call. It was long overdue. After Jack’s death, I was numb. The loss of my relationship with Alan was unbearable enough, and then that happened. I was ill-prepared to cope and had withdrawn to the point that I neglected the friendship and business relationship that I had with Perry, Jack’s widower, who was also my friend. I hoped he’d forgive me.

After only one ring, Perry picked up. “Cole. What a wonderful surprise,” he greeted.

“Hello, Perry. I’m ashamed,” I admitted, getting straight to my goal for the call, admitting I was an asshole and that I was sorry. “I’m beyond sorry as well and hope you’ll please accept my apology. I have zero excuse for how I’ve treated you.”

“Slow down, my friend,” he encouraged. “That was over two years ago, and I understood you had your own sorrow. There’s no need for the apology, but I appreciate it very much.”

I nervously drummed my fingers on the steering wheel of my SUV. Perry had been on my mind ever since rediscovering the Christmas card from Jack. After debating making the call, and much soul-searching, I pulled over at a rest stop and decided to bite the bullet or I’d probably never make the call. I had an overwhelming feeling that now was the time, and to just buck up and call him. I couldn’t explain the feeling of urgency, but the message to do so was overwhelming.

“I mean it, Perry. I’m embarrassed by my behavior after Jack’s death. I should have done better,” I confessed.

“To tell you the truth, Cole, I doubt I would’ve heard a thing you could have said back then. I was completely wrecked by his death and was a total mess myself,” he stated.

I was reminded of Perry and his forgiving nature immediately. Jack had been the face of their relationship. The planner. The everything. Jack was extra; that was just who he was. But Perry lovingly went along and was my friend because of Jack, and I hoped maybe we could reconnect somehow, considering Perry also managed my money.

“You’d think that I’d check in on occasion regarding my assets under your management,” I said, hoping he didn’t think my call was just business.

“I knew you were getting the statements,” he said. “I did leave a few messages for you through your service as well,” he added.

“See? I was an asshole,” I stated. “Couldn’t be bothered,” I added.

“Well, why don’t we consider all that history water under the bridge?”

“I’d like that,” I said.

“Terrific. Done,” he agreed. “Now, besides hopefully reconnecting, how can I help? Are there business-related issues as well?”

“Well, I did spend eight million dollars of my assets on a house,” I said. “Perhaps I should’ve called, huh?” I chuckled.

“Perhaps, but that amount only puts a small dent in your net worth, my friend,” he said, laughing along with me. “Did you wire transfer to the escrow company?” he inquired.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“Great. I’ll make notes in your file and make sure your accountant has the information for tax purposes.”

I marveled at how easily Perry slipped into his role as my financial advisor, while also making me feel like a friend he truly cared for. “You’re amazing, Mr. Jackson,” I said.

I wanted to admit something to Perry, and the queasiness returned as I thought about actually confessing my jealousy. I took a deep breath and decided to just admit my feelings.

“Can I confess something to you, Perry?” I began. “I’m ashamed, but I truly want to clear the air and make amends about something.”

“It sounds serious, Cole. Are you sure? Because I’ve forgiven you and completely understand the absence,” he offered, in typical Perry fashion.

“I’d feel better,” I said.

“Then, of course, by all means,” he replied.

I cleared my throat and considered how exactly to admit this without sounding like an envious school kid, not the thirty-seven-year-old man I was. I’d learned a few lessons by now and admitting I carried such a petty emotion for the past two years or so was something I wasn’t proud of.

“I was jealous of you, Perry,” I admitted. “Truthfully, angry would be a better word.”

The silence from the other end of the line was deafening. My fingers kept time on the steering wheel as I counted down the seconds it took for a response.

“Because I found love again?” he quietly asked.

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