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The color drained from Nate’s face. “What did you just say?”

“I fell in love with you,” she repeated. The words should’ve sent him over the moon with joy, but her cold, clinical tone was at odds with her words. “Or, at least, the person I thought you were. Confident, no bullshit, goes after what he wants. But this?” Kris gestured at him. “All I see is someone with a boatload of excuses and insecurities he’s too afraid to face. I can tell you right now that I don’t give aflying fuckwhether you have a college degree or know which fork to use at a dinner party. You know who else are college dropouts? Mark Zuckerberg. Brad Pitt. Oprah. They did pretty well for themselves. And newsflash: etiquette can be learned. Fears can be overcome. But you didn’t think of that, did you? You had a story in your head about not being good enough, rich enough, successful enough, and you twisted it to make it seem like you were doing me a favor when, in fact, you’re the one who needed justification to stay in your comfort zone.”

Nate was so stunned he couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even breathe.

“I needed you.” Kris’s lips trembled. “I needed someone in this godforsaken town who had my back, but you left. So screw you and your excuses. I’m done. Just like you wanted.”

The door slammed shut with rattling finality behind her. A minute later, a car engine revved to life before the sound faded down the driveway.

All the while Nate stood there frozen, staring blankly at the chipped paint on their front entrance.

He didn’t know how long he did his statue impression, but it was long enough for his father to clamber down the stairs and pin him with a frown.

“You’re still here?” Michael’s bushy brows trembled with disapproval.

“Where else would I be?” Nate mumbled. Maybe he should jump in an acid bath. Scrape off the pavement with his flesh. Throw on a red meat suit, swim out to the middle of the Pacific, and wait for sharks to do their thing.

All better options than wallowing in his self-disgust.

“Out there, chasing your girl!” Michael jabbed a finger toward their driveway. “She read you the riot act, no doubt about that—I could hear you guys from all the way upstairs—but this is your chance to prove her wrong. Instead, you’re standing here like someone glued your feet to the floor. What the hell are you thinking?”

“WhatI’mthinking?” Nate’s temper flared, a welcome reprieve from the chilling numbness that set in the second Kris walked out the door. “I’m thinking I’m in this damn position because I have to be the head of this household. I had to drop out of college and start making money or we would’ve been out on the streets because you decided whiskey was more important than your family. For five years, I worked my ass off so you could drink your days away and shirk your responsibilities. I get that you’re devastated about Mom, I really do. But guess what?So am I.I’m her son, and I loved her, and I didn’t even get the chance to mourn her properly because I’ve been trying to keep us afloat from the moment we received the phone call! So don’t you dare come down here and lecture me. You haven’t earned that right!”

Nate’s hold on his emotions had already weakened from his conversation with Kris. Now, his chest heaved with gasping breaths as half a decade’s worth of frustration, resentment, and grief spilled forth, drowning him in their fury and fogging his vision.

Michael’s chest deflated. His face sank into itself, his eyes and cheeks hollowing with guilt.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’ve been a horrible father these past few years, and I haven’t earned the right to give you advice or tell you how to live your life. You’ve acted far more like an adult than I have, and you’ve done such a good job at holding us together. Taking care of Sky, paying the bills, fixing what needs to be fixed.” He cleared his throat, his eyes growing bright. “Your mother would be so proud of you. Me? She’d probably smack me upside the head if she were here.”

Nate stared at the ground, his jaw harder than granite.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize how selfish I was being,” Michael continued. “I loved your mother so much, and when she died, a big part of me died with her. I told myself I only needed something to get me through the initial pain, and then I’d be all right. But a week turned into a month, a month turned into a year, and a year turned into…well, you know. Every time I tried to quit in the past, the pain came rushing back and I wasn’t strong enough to handle it. I fell back into old habits. I know it’s no excuse, but you and Sky are such good kids. I didn’t have to worry about either of you getting into trouble or falling in with the wrong crowd, and I got comfortable, especially after you took over. I told myself, let Nate handle it. He’s so much better at this than I am. So much stronger.” His voice grew rough. “I didn’t think about the toll it took on you and what it cost you to give up your life for ours. It shouldn’t have taken me almost dying to realize what a fool I’ve been, but that night, when I lay there in the hospital half out of my mind, I saw…your mother. It was the first dream I had of her where she seemed real, so tangible I could almost reach out and touch her. And boy, was she pissed at me.”

Michael chuckled sadly and shook his head. “I don’t remember what she said, but I woke up feeling nauseous and sick to my stomach. Not because of the alcohol poisoning—or at least, not entirely—but because it hit me that I could’ve died without really knowing my children. The last time I spent any meaningful time with you and Sky was when you were still practically kids. Then I thought you two might be better off without me, and wasn’t that a punch in the gut? No father wants to be a burden to their children. I should’ve been the one protecting and taking care of you guys, not the other way around, which is why I promised myself in that hospital bed that I’d quit drinking.” A grim smile. “It hasn’t been easy, as you can probably tell. But I am getting better, and I’ve started attending AA meetings. You have every reason not to believe me, but I mean it this time. No more alcohol. No more living in the past. It’s time for me to step up—for myself and for you and Sky. You’ve been shouldering this burden by yourself for too long, son. Let me help you.”

Sincerity and conviction backed every word.

Nate hadn’t realized how long he’d waited for his father to say those words until he heard them. Once he did, the dam broke, and the tears he’d been holding back for years drenched his cheeks.

Michael clasped him to his chest, awkwardly at first, but then more tenderly.

Nate should’ve been embarrassed, crying like this at the ripe old age of twenty-three, but fuck it. He’d lost his mom.

His mom was dead.

The woman who read him bedtime stories, and taught him how to tie his shoelaces, and baked him his favorite double chocolate chunk cookies whenever he was sad…was dead.

And she was never, ever coming back.

For the first time since he received the news that Flight 968 from Chicago to L.A. had crashed, no survivors onboard, Nate allowed himself to cry, and grieve, and mourn. The anger he’d held onto all these years crumbled, leaving behind a void which the emotions he should’ve processed after his mother’s death rushed to fill.

It was gut-wrenchingly awful and freeing all at once.

The Reynolds’ dismal financial situation was the same, and their house with its leaky pipes and roof was the same. But for once, Nate felt like he didn’t have to shoulder it all on his own. He’d gotten so used to the weight of his burden that he hadn’t realized how much it was crushing him until the pressure eased.

“Do you mind if I give you some advice?” Michael asked once Nate had pulled himself together. “You don’t have to take it—God knows I’ve made my share of mistakes in the past. But marrying your mother was not one of them, and after twenty years of marriage, I’d like to think I know a little something about women.”

Nate released a long, shuddery sigh. “Kris.”

“Kris,” his father confirmed. “You’re crazy about her—no, don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s the same way I looked at your mother from the moment I first saw her reading under an oak tree on campus.” A small smile touched Michael’s face. “That’s the look of a soul finding its other half. If you’re one of the lucky few to come across that in your lifetime, you grab on and you don’t let go. Doesn’t matter how much money you have, or what you look like, or where you live. You think your soul gives a crap about any of those things? All it cares about is that it’s complete. Of course—” Michael’s brows slashed into a deep V. “There are also the stupid few, who push the women they love away for whatever dumb reason they can think of.” A pointed stare at his son. “Tell me, which category do you fall into: the lucky ones or the stupid ones?”

Doesn’t matter how much money you have, or what you look like, or where you live.

It sounded so simple. Nothing in life was that easy…but what if some things were? What if love was just about two people who were willing to defy all opposing circumstances to be together because they hadthat muchfaith in their love? People couldn’t choose who they fell for, and oftentimes, they fell for people their minds would’ve never picked. That was probably a good thing. Minds could be manipulated, and bodies could be tricked. Hearts and souls, though? They always knew the truth.

Nate’s thoughts sharpened, crystallized—and it was all he could do not to bang his head against the wall. He’d been stupid for sure. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to fix his mistake.

“Dad,” he said. “Let’s continue this later. I have to get the woman I love back.”

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