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There’s not a lot I wouldn’t do to see her smile or hear her laugh.
“Does it ache here? A dull pain that feels like it will never go away?” He points to his heart, and I nod. “Even though you nearly burned down my kitchen, you tried to cook. You couldn’t keep your eyes and hands off each other, and as much as I hated to see it, I loved seeing her happy. And she was. You both were. You say everything was pretend, but it didn’t look fake to me.”
“How do I know I won’t turn into my dad? How do I know I won’t destroy everything?”
“You already destroyed everything.” Rhett flashes me a smile and says, “Now you just have to fix it. You might want to start by calling your dad and talking things out. You need to forgive him before you can move on. Then get ready to grovel.”
He doesn’t give me time to respond before he turns and heads down the hallway.
“I didn’t answer your question.” I call after him.
He doesn’t turn around, but his response is crystal clear. “Yeah, you did.”
* * *
I’ve been home for an hour and have done nothing but sit on my couch and stare at my phone.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’ve also thought up several excuses not to call my dad, but every one of them falls flat.
The only family I really talk to is my brother, Finn, and with the time difference, it’s not often. I have a crazy NHL schedule, and he’s in his last year at university. We’re both busy. And my younger brother? I doubt he knows much about me except that I’m over in America playing hockey.
Finn tells me to call Dad, but I’ve always brushed him off. And for what? Because I’m harboring a grudge the size of the Atlantic Ocean.
As much as it pains me to admit it, Rhett’s right. I need to make this phone call or I’m never going to move on. I’m going to remain a bachelor for the rest of my days, and while that has some benefits, it’s a lonely life. A lonely life I’m not so sure I want to live anymore.
If anything, maybe this will be a step toward repairing our shattered father-son relationship.
With a heavy sigh, I unlock my phone and call my dad for the first time since I left for the NHL.
He answers on the second ring, his voice sounding almost the same as I remember. “Foster? Is everything okay?”
And now I feel like an asshole. “Yeah, Dad. I, uh, how are you?”
“I’m good. I’m really good. How about you?” His question is tentative but not disinterested.
That shouldn’t be such a hard question, yet here I am, sitting in silence. Maybe I should have done this years ago, but I wasn’t ready. I’m not sure I’m ready now, either. Maybe this is a terrible idea, although I think it’s a bit too late to hang up now.
“Can I ask you a question?”
There’s banging on the other end of the phone, like he’s cooking or washing dishes, but it stops after a few seconds. “Of course you can.”
I take a big breath and let the words tumble from my mouth. “Do you regret marrying Mom?”
“No.” He clears his throat. “I never regretted a single second I spent with your mother, and even if I knew the accident would take her away from us, I would do it again in a heartbeat.” There’s an oppressive silence that hangs between us for several seconds before he continues. “The only thing I regret is not being a better father to you boys after we lost her. I should have been there for you. You boys were grieving just like I was, and we should have mourned your mother together. I shouldn’t have left you at home to take care of your brothers. It wasn’t fair to you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My throat tightens, and just like that, some of the weight I’ve been carrying around for years slips from my shoulders. “I’m sorry, too.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I’m sorry for not reaching out and calling sooner.”
“I’m the parent and should have called you, but I didn’t want to be a dark spot on your bright career.” He sighs and pulls out a kitchen chair—or at least that’s what I imagine he’s doing. “I didn’t think you’d have taken my call if I tried.”
“If I’m being honest, I probably wouldn’t have.”
“I thought your mother was my reason for living, but I was wrong. It wasn’t just her, it was you boys, too. It took a couple of failed marriages to see past my grief, but I like to think I came out better on the other side. I was able to make things right with Rowan and Finn, but you were the one who deserved more than I gave you. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
I run a hand along the side of my face and grab the back of my neck. Avery and Mason wouldn’t be a reason to live, but they’d be a reason to get up every day with a smile on my face.
