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My mother. The memory of her and my father plays like a loop in my mind. How could he love after my mother?
The child in me wants to stand and throw a fit; the man wants to as well, but unlike the child, the man sits and listens.
"I believed moving on was an insult to your mother's memory."It was...it is."Admitting I fell in love again felt like it would drive the final nail into our relationship's coffin. So, I kept her hidden," he reveals; his shame is thick in the air.
"Is that why we were sent away to boarding school?"
"No," he corrects quickly, "I met her years after your mother passed. I sent you boys away because I couldn't handle my grief. I didn't know how to be a father without your mother. It was wrong, and if your mom were alive today, she'd kill me. Slowly." Dad smirks. Mom was the only woman who could make my dad apologize. They were so in love.
"When mom died, you did too."
He nods.
"Why are you telling me this now?"
Dad looks up, but his eyes remain on my shoulder. "I want us to start over. You are my son, but she's in my life too. Our family is never going to be whole again. I'm getting older, and I want all the time I have left to be with my sons." He gulps, "When I got the call, you had been shot," he shakes his head, "it was my wake-up call. I could have lost you. I don't even know you anymore, son. I want to know you and your brothers."
"I want that, too," I whisper. The child in me wants to stand and run to him. The man stands, closing the distance slowly. I reach out my palm, and he grasps it; I pull him up and hug him. He's smaller than me now; I've got a good two inches and fifty pounds of muscle on him. It feels wrong that my father is smaller. I used to hug his knee and beg him not to go to work so he could stay home with us.
"I love you, son. You've made me so proud, and I want you to have the love I had with your mom. If Poppy is this for you, then I promise you, your uncle, and I will do everything in our power to make sure she is safe."
I pat his back, "I love you too, Dad."
We pull away, and I have to ask, "Are you happy?"
"I'm a different kind of happy, but yes, she makes me happy.” He replies.
That’s carefully crafted to make sure he knows this new woman won't replace the memory or love he had for my mother.
"Are you happy?" Dad shoots back, his gaze lingering on his old office.
I shrug, "It's not bad," I admit. I still miss the days of being a soldier. Nothing will replace that, not a fancy office or the title of CEO. "I get to see Theo, Kent, and Poppy every day." Saying her name makes me smile.
He pats my shoulder, "I know this job wasn't one you wanted. Once all this is settled, if you still don't want it, then let's open up that discussion."
I jerk back slightly, shocked he'd even offer this. After Theo turned out to be an engineering genius, it was almost a given that I'd have to take over the role of CEO. That's why I ran and joined the army. I hoped that if I were successful in another career, then my dad would let go of the idea that the CEO of Sterling Defense had to remain a Sterling.
"I want you to be happy," Dad reassures me.
No matter the gap, the break, or the shift, you can rebuild things. Two sides just have to be willing to.
Just when it seemed like the floodwaters were creeping up to my shoulders—my role as CEO, navigating a new relationship, mending fractured ones, wrestling with secrets and lies, and dealing with Andrew and his father—I managed to add another member to my army.
Chapter 13
Andrew
"She actually tried to approach our table at the country club last week," Kelly cackles like a hyena. "After she donated that small amount. Her handbag costs more than her donation. It’s an insult."
Kelly is Kimberly, my fiancée's mother, who loves to say the word 'country club' every chance she gets.
What is an insult is having to sit here and listen to the Prescotts at all. I eye my father, who paints on his fake grin, but inside, I know he hates these monthly social dinners at 'the country club' just as much as I do. He glances over at me now, and I give him my best 'This is your fault' grin. The cold glare he flashes back doesn't scare me like it used to. After you’ve been punched so many times, you just become numb.
With a roll of my eyes, I look at Kimberly, my fiancée; she’s pretty, and sure, she’s a good fuck, but, well, the fact that my mind conjures a 'but' is all I need to think on the matter.
She isn’t Poppy.
No one is.
