A hot flush prickled at the back of my neck. I got to my feet, pacing the length of my office. “What’s wrong with being like Dad?” I asked sharply. She knew how much I looked up to him.
“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart,” Mum hurried to say. “Your father is a wonderful man. He’s honest, honorable, hard working. There’s a lot to admire about him. I’m just…Do you not realize how lonely the man is?”
I stopped pacing, staring at the photo on my wall. It was an old picture from years ago. Dad and one of his business partners, shaking hands, cementing another great deal for Fraser Developments.Lonely?
I’d never thought of Dad as lonely, but now that I was staring the question in the face, it occurred to me that I couldn’t really think of anyone in my Dad’s life who wouldkeephim from being lonely. As far as I knew, he hadn’t had a romantic relationship since the divorce. He was an only child with no close family other than me. He had casual friends, but most of them were businessacquaintances—people he could maybe grab a drink or dinner with, but no one to truly engage with on a deeper level. Who was there to share the quiet moments?
No one.
That’s who.
My throat tightened.
“I know it’s maybe unfair of me to point this out,” Mum continued, her voice small. “I’ve caused your father a lot of hurt over the years, and I take the blame for that. But I never wanted him to end up alone. I’ve always wanted him to be happy. To find his person. Andthat’sbeen my biggest source of guilt since the divorce.”
“Dad being alone?” I said.
“Not just alone,” Mum said. “Some people are happy with a more solitary life. There’s nothing wrong with that, if it suits them. But your father has so little to fill his days. He closed himself off from the rest of the world after my affair came to light. I’ve wanted to reach out to him so many times, but I know I no longer have the right.”
I considered her words and how differently they’d both approached the divorce. In the years since separating, Mum had moved on with her life. She had hobbies, interests, and a lively social circle. Dad had…well, he’d had work, especially right after the divorce. But since he’d retired, I really didn’t know how he filled his days.
“Your father always struggled to maintain relationships,” Mum said. “Even while we were together. I was the one always reaching out to friends, making social arrangements, planningholidays for us as a family, or just dragging him out for a stroll. Anything to make sure he didn’t completely lose himself in business proposals. I knew he would find it difficult after we separated, but I never imagined he’d turnthisinward.”
A flash of emotion caught me off guard. It was strange hearing my mother display so much concern for my father after all this time.
“I really hate thinking of him that way, Locke. I hate imagining him all alone in that big house with nothing but his own thoughts.” Mum got choked up. “But even more than that, I hated the idea thatyouwould follow in his footsteps.”
That I would become a lonely old man muttering to myself in my flat? That I’d always be on the outside looking in?An image appeared in my mind. Me hunched over my phone, watching Isla and our son grow up from the other side of a screen. Her photos whipped across my vision. Birthdays. Christmases. Summer festivals. Weston and Lena and Alistair and all the kids. Everyone getting older. But where was I?
I forced the image from my mind. That wasn’t me.
That wasn’t who I would become!
“But now you have a baby on the way!” Mum said, her tone brighter, breaking me out of my own thoughts. “It’s such wonderful news, sweetheart. And now I can finally stop fretting over you.”
My throat tightened even more. “Mum…” I said, cutting her off as a hideous surge of guilt ate through me. “Isla and I—the baby’s mother—we’re not together. Not anymore.”
“Oh,” Mum said, the excitement and wonder and joy disappearing from her voice. “I didn’t…I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.” She reallydidsound sorry. “And is there no chance of a reunion there?”
The corner of my mouth turned down. “Isla doesn’t want that,” I said. She’d made it clear that what I had to offer wasn’t good enough for her.
“And do you?” Mum asked.
“No,” I said, the word tasting bitter. “Ending things was for the best.”
“I see.” Her tone was hopelessly sad.
I swallowed hard.
It sounded like she’d given up on the idea of me being happy at all, which was ridiculous. Because I was still going to be a father. I was still going to have a successful business, which equaled a successful life. That was enough, wasn’t it?
Wasn’t it?
27
ISLA
“That looks amazing!” Cat squealed, taking a step back as she admired the wall I’d just finished painting. “Isla! This looks like an actual professional did it.”
