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“I’ll try not to.” But her track record wasn’t great, and neither was his.
22
Logan toweled his hair dry,inhaling the scent of the ocean that lingered in it, and pulled out a chair at the table in his apartment above The Den. He hadn’t rented it out yet, despite the fact things were going well between him and Gabby, because it made a useful office space. Sure, he could have used the tiny room downstairs but, up here, he was able to avoid Peach, who seemed to have decided to view his relationship status as a challenge.
After that first night, he’d expected her to stop flirting and get on with the job but instead, she’d doubled down over the past three weeks. It made him damned uncomfortable. He’d taken to avoiding her rather than discussing the problem with Corinne because he feared his mum would think he’d encouraged her, and it might somehow get back to Gabby. He hated his past behavior for giving him a reputation as a player and intruding on what should be a completely wonderful present. Would he spend his whole life unable to escape his baggage?
He fired up his laptop and went to get a coffee while he waited for it to load. He still kept a few basics in the kitchen, although the pantry was mostly empty. He sat back down and opened his emails, scrolling through the new mail. An advertisement, a bill, a request from someone who wanted to book The Den for a birthday party, an email from one of his suppliers, another advertisement, and then he stopped. There, midway down the list, was an email from Jonathan Pride.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Dad.”
He immediately cursed himself for calling the bastard “Dad.” He was a no-good absentee father. Not “Dad.” That was a name reserved for someone who cared about their children. He hovered with a finger above the keypad, debating whether to open it or just delete and forget that he’d ever emailed his father in the first place.
Just do it.
He clicked the email and a dialogue box opened. He read quickly. Then re-read more slowly, anger heating his gut with each word.
Hi Logan,
It’s been a while. I’m happy to hear from you. Hopefully the fact you’re reaching out means you’re ready to talk. I know your mum had years to poison you against me, and I’m glad you’re ready to hear my side of the story.
Corinne and I were too young to be parents when she got pregnant with you. We weren’t mature enough, and we had so much we wanted to do. Still, we gave it our best shot. The first few years had passed before I realized it. It’s amazing how time flies when you have a new baby. We got along fine, for the most part, but changed in ways that meant we didn’t suit each other anymore.
We should have separated then, but instead, we tried to stick it out and ended up pregnant with Kyle. As with you, the first couple of years after his birth flashed by, until one day I woke up and realized that neither your mum nor I were happy and if I didn’t act, the life I’d wanted would slip by. It’s scary when you see how easy it would be for your entire life to pass without you ever achieving your dreams.
When I moved out, we agreed to a custody arrangement, but your mum found excuses to keep you with her instead of sending you to me. Eventually, I got the opportunity to travel to Hawaii, which had always been a dream of mine. I went because I hardly saw you and your brother anyway, so I didn’t think you’d miss me. But then I fell in love and how was I supposed to leave after that?
I tried to keep in touch, but I moved again and the time zones made it difficult. I’m sure your mother made the most of that to cast me in a bad light.
Anyway, when you stopped calling me and answering my calls, I assumed Corinne finally got what she wanted and that you were done with me. So that’s the whole story. Corinne and I should never have been together. Separating was the right thing to do, and I know now that following my dreams and my heart was too. I hope you have managed to do the same in your life.
I’d love to hear more from you. I followed your professional surfing career closely.
Talk again soon,
Dad.
He staredat the email in a haze of fury.
What. The. Hell.
How dare he talk about Corinne like that? She had gone to pains to never shit-talk Jonathan, and God knew she’d had plenty of reason to. She’d been sensitive to Logan and Kyle’s feelings and would never imply anything negative about their dad or suggest that because of them she’d lost some of the best years of her life. She was caring, warm, and more generous than Jonathan deserved.
Not to mention the fact he’d tried to blame her for all the times he’d bailed on them. Logan had been a kid, but he was old enough to remember the facts. Corinne was the one who’d had to explain to two disappointed boys why Daddy once again wouldn’t be spending the weekend with them.
Logan shook his head. His jaw ached and he realized he’d been clenching his teeth. Then there was that part about following his dreams and his heart. Were his sons not part of his dream, or embedded in his heart? Did he have no fucking idea how much of an asshole this email made him sound like?
And what about that parting remark? Logan knew for a fact that he’d entered competitions near where his dad was living a few times, but the man had never shown his face. Either he was lying, or he knew that Logan would have told him to go to hell if he’d shown up.
“Asshole.”
He shoved the chair back, wincing at the squeal of the legs against the floor. He paced the length of the room, went to the window, and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
It didn’t work.
“Fuck.” He kicked the couch.
He was related to that asshole? Shared a name with him? Maybe even a blood type?
