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“I’d like to reassure you that she doesn’t blame you but the fact is she might, but that’s not your fault. You can’t control how others feel. My ex-wife blames me for something terrible that happened and some days it’s hard to remember that it wasn’t truly my fault. Trust me, sometimes the weight of that one single situation is enough to cripple.”
Miranda held his gaze, not bothering to wipe away her tears. “What happened?”
Here it was. The moment of truth. He wanted to tell her but his throat closed up when he tried. He didn’t think he could get the words out. “Wait here,” he said and rose from his seat to go into the small closet where one single box was stacked against the wall. He opened the box and pulled out the last school photo ever taken of Tyler, bordered by a dark wooden frame. His hands shook as he held the picture. For a wild, irrational moment he thought better of sharing the pain of his loss, but Miranda deserved to know, no matter how much it hurt him to share.
Her eyes went to the frame he held to his chest and she frowned as she wiped at her eyes. “What is that?” she asked.
“This,” he said, “is my son. Tyler.” He turned the frame to her, and before she could ask, he added in a choked voice, “He’s dead.”
Miranda’s mouth fell open and she appeared speechless. “What happened?” she asked, recovering.
“An ATV accident. Tyler was riding on our property and being reckless. He took a turn too sharply and flipped the ATV. It rolled over him, killing him instantly.”
Miranda covered her mouth, pain in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed, shaking her head in horror. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry.”
Jeremiah jerked a short nod and hugged the frame back to his chest. “I know a thing or two about blame and guilt. I don’t have it all figured out—not by a long shot—but I do know that if you don’t put it in its place, it will eat you from the inside out. Your sister, my son...they were taken from us, but we didn’t cause their deaths.”
“Why do you blame yourself? It was an accident.”
“My ex didn’t think Tyler was old enough to handle the responsibility of an ATV. I didn’t agree. I bought the ATV against her express wishes,” he admitted, feeling the weight of that decision settle on his chest. He couldn’t possibly convey in words the regret he suffered every day for that one decision. “She blames me for Tyler’s death and a part of me agreed. If I hadn’t allowed my guilt for being a workaholic to override my good sense, my son might still be alive.” He shrugged but there was too much pain in that single motion to come off as nonchalant or flippant. “But there’s no way of knowing. Maybe it was just his time.”
“I hate that saying.”
He smiled. “Me, too. The last well-meaning person who said that to me nearly got my foot in their ass. But sometimes the only way to cope with something we can’t understand is to cling to well-meaning but ultimately useless clichés. Most people don’t know how to navigate a person’s grief. I tried to remember that they meant well but it didn’t stop me from wanting to rip their heads off.”
“That’s why you left Wyoming.”
“Yes.”
“And why you freaked out when you found out that I have a son.”
“Yes.” He placed Tyler’s picture on the coffee table facedown and returned to his seat. “Miranda...I would find a million different ways to make a relationship with you work if it weren’t for the fact that I can’t face the idea of fulfilling a father-figure role again. I’ve tried really hard to get past it, but ultimately, it hurts too much.”
Miranda’s mouth curved in a pained smile. “You assume too much, Jeremiah. I’m not interested or looking for a daddy for my son. If I were, I’d be smart about it and accept Otter’s offer of a date.”
“My landlord?”
“Yes. He’s had a crush on me since high school and he’s a really great guy who would treat my son like his own. But I don’t feel anything for him.”
Why did that give him a sense of relief? What a selfish bastard he was. He forced the words out. “Miranda, you deserve a good man. Your son deserves to have someone in his life he can relate to. Eventually, he’s going to have needs you can’t fulfill.”
“Such as?”
“How are you going to teach him to shave?”
“How hard can it be?”
“Boys need a father. You’re probably a great mother, and I would never say that you’re not capable of wearing both hats, but you have to know that you can’t be everything at once without sacrificing somewhere.”
