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“You were so young, and you wanted to get on with your life; it’s only normal.”
“Maybe you’re right. Timing is everything. And now it’s you and me. Us. I couldn’t do this without your support,” he returned.
“You would, but I’m honored to stand by your side. I will support you no matter what. And I know you’d do the same for me.”
“I would. I will.” Iain cupped my face in his hands. “I promise you here and now.”
We sealed his words with a tender kiss.
CHAPTER 41
IAIN
TWO WEEKS LATER
Iflew to Rhode Island as planned.
Not that I wanted to leave Dawson, but he had responsibilities back home.
But I wasn’t entirely alone. Lennie was with me.
I’d called my dad weeks ago when the news story about the stalker hit the headlines. As usual, the call was brief, with my dad seemingly more concerned about getting to his tennis game on time than making sure I was all right. It was always the same. I hoped he’d give me something other than formal pleasantries, but I was always left disappointed.
No more.
I knew if I wanted to step into the next phase of my life with Dawson, I needed to face my past.
Over the years, I’d head home, but I stayed with Brodie and spent time with his family. They’d taken me in as their own, which I will forever be grateful for.
And this time, I was borrowing Brodie’s cottage.
Okay, it was a mansion more than a cottage, but done in a cape cod style that suited the oceanfront property.
Lennie rented a car and drove me to my dad’s place in Providence, about forty-five minutes away.
The closer I got to our old family home, the more unsettled I became.
The house looked eerily the same, a two-story colonial that was the typical suburban dream.
Dad had hardly changed anything over the years except painting the front door. That was new. Everything else, from the rose bushes in the front yard to the wind chimes hanging from the porch, was as it was when I was a kid.
Swallowing down my anxiety, I knocked on the door and waited.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Allen, greeted me.
“Iain, so nice to see you again. Your father is in his office.”
“Thanks.”
Fuck, even the smell of the place—pine-scented cleaner and lavender—haunted me.
I walked along the hallway to the first door on the right and knocked on the door.
“Come in!”
Opening the door, I walked in to find my father in his usual place, sitting at his desk with his laptop open. As an accountant, he worked both in the office and at home. He should’ve had a bed put in here since this was where he’d pretty much lived for the past twenty-years.
Stephen Holloway was a man of business, first and foremost.
