Page 105 of The Scars We Heal

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

jake

My leg bounced as I waited in a booth at a café in town. The heel of my boot created a pounding rhythm off the floor that I was sure annoyed other patrons, but I couldn’t stop. The thumps on the wood panel flooring matched the tempo of my heart, and if it beat any faster, I was sure it would claw its way out of my chest.

I have a brother.

My dad isn’t my real dad.

I’d had a whole month to come to terms with the news, but somehow, it still hadn’t sunk in. A war had waged in my head about whether to meet them or not, but I wanted to be brave. If not for myself, then to set an example one day for Whitley. To show her it was okay to be scared—to not know what the future had in store—but to do it anyway. That the best things in life came within reach when you faced your fears, confronted the worries that clouded your mind head-on, and that through it all, the people you loved would always be there to support you no matter what.

I glanced down at my phone, rereading the text Caitlin had sent me shortly after I’d left the house.

Cait

Good luck. They’re going to love you.

Whatever happens today and whatever you decide to do, I’ll be right there to support you.

The bells on the front door chimed as two men walked in. One of them was older, his hair more salt than blond. The other was younger than me by at least five years, with dark-brown hair. However, there was no mistaking our similarities. We all had the same blue eyes and defined, prominent nose shape.

“Are you Jacob?” the younger one asked as he approached the table.

I stood, almost tripping over my feet as the legs of the chair I had been sitting in scraped across the tile. “Jake, but y-yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Nolan. But I’m sure you already figured that out since we, uh, texted. This is my dad, Grant. Well, I guess he’s your dad, too.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, a light stubble dusting his chin, awkwardness settling in the space between us.

The older man, Grant—my dad—extended his hand. “Hello…son.” His voice cracked a little when he said the word son.

I grasped it in a firm handshake, focusing my energy on the action to distract myself from the urge to pass out. “Sorry, have a seat.” I gestured to the table. “It…it’s really nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Nolan said. “I’m sorry if this is kind of weird, I just…when I found out I had a brother, I needed to see him for myself. It’s been just me, Dad, and Mom for so long. I wanted to know if it was true.”

My brain failed to conjure up the words I wanted to say. All I could do was sit there, dumbfounded, mind short-circuiting because I had a brother. A brother and a dad who wanted me in their lives. Who made all the effort to meet me.

“Your mother…” my dad started to say. “How is she?”

I pursed my lips into a hard line. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to my parents…er, my mom and Denny in years.”

Grant nodded, his expression morphing into something of sadness. “I see. I had no idea she had gotten pregnant all those years ago. If I had”—he swallowed—“if I had known, I would have reached out.”

I offered him a noncommittal shrug. “It’s all right.”

The man shook his head. “It’s not, but now that we’ve met, I’d like to know you. If that’s something you’d want.”

My eyes shifted from Grant to Nolan. “Yeah. I’d like that. Um…where should we start?”

“Let’s just start from the beginning, yeah?” Grant suggested.

Over the next couple hours, the three of us sat in that café, drinking shitty black coffee and sharing stories. I spared them the ugly details—the drug dealing and the trouble I’d gotten myself into in high school as a cry for attention—but I told them about my mom and how she was when she was healthy. How she’d passed down her love for animals to me. Her dismal cooking skills, to which my biological father laughed and said she was a horrible cook when he met her, too.

It turned out my dad met my mom at a bar when he was traveling the world after college. He found the place after stopping for the day in a small town and wanted to do something other than sit in a hotel room. They hit it off, and one thing led to another. He told me he wanted to have a relationship with her, but she’d disappeared on him after their night together. He looked around for her, but after months of searching, he met his current wife—Nolan’s mom—and started a family. That missed connection was both the biggest loss and best blessing of his life.

A surprising amount of heartache washed over me for my mom, and for me, frankly. I couldn’t have been mad at my dad. He tried to find my mom, but the circumstances just didn’t allow it. My chest burned at the idea of having a loving family, though, something Nolan was lucky enough to have but skipped over me. But then I considered how different my life might have been had my mom stuck around. The chances that I’d have met Colter and the rest of the guys were slim. And if I hadn’t met Colter, then I wouldn’t have met Caitlin, either. Through all this, relief that the man who I thought was my dad isn’t my actual father overtook the sadness. It only solidified what I’d known all along—that I could and would be a better man than the one who raised me.

“So, I see that you’re a big professional cowboy,” Grant said after we’d finally shared our histories up until the present day.

I tilted my head to crack my neck. “You could say that.”