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I was taken aback by his adamancy. I’d thought the questions a million times in my life, but never voiced them aloud to my father. There just seemed to be too much of a coincidence that I was born and she took off right after to not have a connection.
“Are you sure? Because—”
“I’m sure.” He cut me off, shaking my shoulders again. “It’s my fault. Not yours. Do you hear me?”
I nodded automatically, though I wasn’t convinced. I’d wanted to ask this question for so long, and part of me couldn’t be satisfied.It’s my fault. Not yours. How could I reconcile that with the guilt and pain, believing for over thirty years I was responsible for all the hurt my family had endured. Iwantedto believe him.But was he still trying to protect me?
“It wasn’t your fault, either,” I said quietly. She’d left all of us for another man. Another life. And she’d never looked back. Not until lately.
I’d reached out to her. If it weren’t for me, she probably wouldn’t be dragging Dad back through this confusion and hell. She’d have left well enough alone if I had too.
His eyelids shuddered. “We have to live with the choices we make.”
A rope knotted around my gut. “I know. But we have to live with the choices other people make too.”
A shrill ring cut through the room. This time my own phone rang.
“Don’t answer that,” Dad said severely when he saw the caller ID. He covered my hand with his.
The number was one I didn’t recognize. “It could be work.”
“It’s her.”
Her? “Mom?”
He nodded, his grip on my hand pleading. I stared at him, one part of me insanely curious to find out what she wanted, the other terrified to hear what she’d have to say.
Frozen, the phone seemed to ring forever until it stopped. Silence enveloped us, thick and heavy.
“Why is she calling me?” I whispered. I’d wanted that for as long as I could remember. For my entire life. I just wanted my mother to want me, no matter the reason.
“I don’t know.” His voice cracked. “I can’t tell you not to speak to her. I want to, but I can’t.”
“I don’t want to betray you.” There was longing in what I hadn’t said. That I wanted to at least have a chance with her, even if I was a grown man.
“You couldn’t. Don’t let my feelings shape yours.” The sound was rough, pained, but selfless.
“I need to talk to her. To know the truth,” I said honestly.
His face dropped, but he nodded once. “I understand you want to know her side, but that doesn’t make it the truth. Be careful, son.”
Chapter Three
Baker
He hadn’t come home.
If I said I hadn’t waited up, I’d have been lying. Because I had until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. And after I’d gone to bed, nightmares plagued me and every noise had me on alert. But I’d known he wasn’t here. Felt his absence.
As I turned my key in the lock after a long day at work, I half expected his things to be gone.
I pushed open the door. Quickly peering around the open space, everything seemed the same. His books littered the coffee table. The mug he’d left on the kitchen counter three days ago was still there. A T-shirt draped the back of a barstool. The apartment was still, lacking the energy that hummed through it when Holt was home.
Home.
What a joke. I’d jumped at the opportunity to get out of the shelter. To leave behind the first place that had been a real home to me in a long time. Because I wanted it all. The place to come back to that had nothing to do with the surroundings but who was in it.
Foolishness.
