Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Good.” Sticking with the one-word answers was easy.
“And I’m damn proud of the man you’ve become.”
That had me swiveling my head toward him. “You had nothing to do with the man I’ve become.”
“I’m even prouder of you because of that.” His smile was close-lipped and sad. “I was always proud when you’d bring home a trophy, or when you made your mother smile. But knowing that you’ve spent a decade serving your country, watching you fly this helicopter like it’s nothing more complicated than a car…I’m speechless.”
My jaw locked and unlocked, then repeated the process.
“Just let me have it, Weston.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Whatever you need to say, just say it.”
“I don’t need to say shit to you. Thought I made that clear by not taking your calls. This”—I motioned between us—“isn’t a relationship you can repair. And it’s not something I need closure on, either. You were dead to me a long time ago.”
“You forgave Reed.” The plea in his eyes only loosened the tether I had on my temper.
“Reed was a child. Did I resent the hell out of the fact that he got to go do whatever the hell he wanted? Got to have a life? Absolutely. But he was a kid. You were the adult.” I jabbed my finger in his direction.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” His face fell.
“You checked out when she got sick!” I snapped. “She was scared, and confused, and dying, and you decided the bottom of a bottle was a better place to be than at her side.”
Memories assaulted me, pulling me back to the sight of the frozen ground being excavated for her body. Crew’s tears that he hadn’t been able to hide. The absolute terror in Reed’s eyes. The weight of everyone’s needs settling on my shoulders because I knew I was the only one who could handle it all. Because I knew Mom needed me to handle it all.
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Shame washed over his features.
“You abandoned us. You threw yourself into the fucking resort and abandoned Crew and me. You left us to raise ourselves. I was sixteen years old when she died, you asshole. Sixteen. You were drunk while Reed and I tried to plan the funeral. You were drunk when we buried her. You didn’t give a shit about the fact that your sons’ worlds were disintegrating. You only cared about yourself, you selfish fuck.” The words tasted bitter, and yet I couldn’t seem to stop them from flying out of my mouth, and each truth only made me realize just how fucked-up it all really had been.
Because if something happened to Callie, I would have made damn sure Sutton was okay. My chest clenched painfully at the thought, but it was true. I would never leave Sutton to her own grief the way Dad had left us to ours.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, softer this time.
“Stop fucking saying that!” I shook my head. “I was the adult in that house for years, Dad. Not days while you got through the shock, or weeks while you processed your grief. Years. You didn’t show up to my high school graduation. You couldn’t be bothered to get to the ER when the doctors had to set Crew’s hand. You sure as hell didn’t watch him compete or give a damn when I stopped competing.”
“I know. And. I’m sorry.” His shoulders fell.
“Is that all you have to say? Eleven years, and all you can say is I know and I’m sorry?” It wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t sure anything would ever be enough.
“I won’t make any excuses, Weston.” He shook his head. “I stopped acting like your father the day we lost your mom, and it’s inexcusable.”
“You quit before that.” The muscles in my jaw ticked. “And maybe if it had just been me, or even Crew that you’d neglected, I could get past it. But the way you abandoned her when she got sick?” My throat closed up. I could still feel her hand squeezing mine, her eyes going cloudy with confusion because she couldn’t figure out what day it was. “I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He looked away. “I’ll never forgive myself. I’m just glad you’re here, Weston. I’m thankful you came when Reed called. I’m in awe of what you’ve done, how successful you’ve made your side of the business in such a short time.”
Silence stretched between us for a minute or two, so tense that every breath was a struggle.
“It took a long time for me to learn how to live with myself,” he said slowly. “It was long after you boys were grown. And I guess that’s what I’m asking you for.”
My gaze clashed with his.
“I won’t ever ask your forgiveness, but I will ask that you learn to live…around me.” Misery lined his face, but hope flashed in his eyes. “It’s a small mountain, Weston. We’re bound to see each other.”