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Honor could break his heart.
If he continued down the road he was on, she could shatter it in a million pieces and have him looking exactly like this tomorrow. Because hell, if his parents could split up after thirty-five years, what chance did he have with someone who made no secret over her lack of faith in love? Who was he to think he could be the one to make her believe?
A stab of fear was bowled over by guilt for his selfishness. He was here for his dad, not to think only of himself. And his parents were not split up. They were taking time to work through a hundred and five mile-per-hour curveball.
He set aside his own worries and asked his dad, “Have you talked to Mom since Saturday night?”
A slow shake of his head barely stirred the gray strands sticking up from his scalp. “She won’t answer my calls. Won’t text me. Nothing. I don’t know where she is or if she’s even okay.”
“She is okay,” he started. His dad’s gaze jerked to his, and he held up a
hand. “She texted Celia, but you gotta give her some time, Dad. That’s step one of the plan.”
He rubbed a hand over his face, his palm rasping over the gray stubble on his chin. “I should’ve told her. All those years ago, I should’ve told her what happened. What I did.”
Asher didn’t know if he agreed or not, so he simply listened as his father continued, the words tumbling drunkenly from his mouth.
“But I was afraid she’d change her mind and file the divorce papers, and I’d lose her forever. But then…I think that if I had told her, maybe I would’ve found out about this boy, this man, who is my son. I hate that I haven’t known him all this time. That you kids didn’t know your brother. But, if I’d told your mother what I did and she’d left me, I wouldn’t have any of you kids, and I can’t bear the thought of that either.”
The forlorn guilt in his father’s rough voice as he went back and forth put a lump in his throat. If he’d ever doubted his dad’s love for their mom or the family—which he hadn’t—his heartbreak right now reinforced his absolute devotion.
Asher blew out a sigh as he rose to go set his glass and the decanter back on the side bar. He’d originally been angry with his father, but having considered the situation further, he could understand Loyal and Merit’s view that if the divorce papers were signed, as far as his father believed, it was over. If he’d been as heartbroken then as he was now, he could understand him getting drunk and making a stupid mistake.
Hell, he could even understand Vivian not telling his dad about Grayson if Honor’s possible explanation were true. He didn’t like any of it, but he could understand the potential fear that would have motivated the woman’s decisions back then.
Returning to the desk, he said, “I think things happened the way they were supposed to happen, and even if they didn’t, you can’t change it now.”
“I can’t bear it if she doesn’t come back.”
“Mom will come back, Dad.” She would, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. After thirty-five years and the family they had, he couldn’t imagine his mom throwing it all away. “You just need a chance to talk to her again. And when she’s ready for that, you can apologize.”
“I apologized a hundred times already.”
He knew that. Just like his father had apologized to him and all his siblings Saturday night. “Then you’ll apologize again. As many times as it takes.”
“I don’t think she’ll forgive me for this. And I can’t really blame her. I beat myself up over it for years before I finally convinced myself we were happy, we had a great life, a great family, so that one night didn’t really matter. It was nothing after all.” His brow furrowed in a deep frown. “A nothing that led to a baby.”
“You not knowing about Grayson isn’t your fault, Dad.”
He shook his head, the exaggerated movement revealing the effects of the alcohol. “I know that, rationally I know, but it doesn’t matter in here.” He pressed his hand to his chest, face twisted as if it hurt. Tears filled his eyes, and his head lolled forward toward his chest as he mumbled, “I should’ve told her.”
A quiet knock turned Asher to the door, and he rose to meet Elena halfway across the room. He gave her brief smile as he took the tray loaded with coffee, cups, and a couple of sandwiches. “Thanks. Good call on the food.”
“You guys okay?”
“We will be.”
She gave an understanding nod and a light squeeze on his forearm. “Anything else, just let me know.”
By the time his father drank some coffee and ate half the sandwich, he’d rebounded enough to stop wallowing. Asher directed the conversation to positive actions until Loyal and Merit arrived an hour later with campaign stuff. The four of them worked into the afternoon, and after four, Celia and Shelby joined in. It felt like old times, if they didn’t dwell on the fact Mom didn’t bring in afternoon treats. They all noticed, but none of them spoke it out loud.
It was almost six p.m. when Asher pulled Loyal aside. “Honor’s making dinner. You guys got this?”
“Yeah, we’re good. I’ll see you later.” He raised his eyebrows and clapped him on the shoulder. “Or, maybe not.”
Asher grinned on his way out the door, sent Honor a text he was on his way, then spent the next fifteen minutes unaccountably nervous on the drive home. He thought of his mom again, and used voice command to call her cell phone.
It went straight to voicemail, and he left a quick message as he pulled into his garage. “Hey, Mom. I hope you’re doing okay. First off, know that I love you, and I’ll love you no matter where any of this ends up. Dad’s pretty wrecked right now, and that’s not to make less of what you’re going through, but just to let you know he loves you more than anything. When you’re ready, I hope you will give him a chance to talk before you make any decisions. And if you need to talk, or if you need anything at all, please know we’re all here for you. Love you.”
