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When I land, I rent a car under an alias. I drive the thirty minutes to the home I never imagined stepping foot in. As I pull up, parking in the circular driveway, the bay glimmering in the distance offering a false sense of hope, I fix my eyes on the only man in Cat’s life who knows about us. He’s waiting for me. Just as I suspected he would be.
Theodore James descends the front steps of his home wearing jeans, a cowboy hat, and a scowl. “You better have a good reason for all the secrecy, son,” he says, tapping his cigar so the ashes float to the ground.
I blow out a breath. “You didn’t tell anyone, right?”
He just stares at me. Not a man of many words, apparently.
“Right,” I mutter, holding out my hand. “Good to see you.”
He glares, then nods in the direction of the house. “Come inside. I have a feeling we’ll need a whiskey for this conversation.”
I follow him through the front door, immediately catching sight of a picture of Cat above the mantel. She’s younger and just as beautiful as she was when I watched her walk away today. My heart twists at the image of her. But that photo is the perfect reminder of why I’m doing all of this.
He leads me to what looks like his study and points to two oversized chairs. “Take a seat,” he instructs. “Whiskey?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
He pours two fingers into a lowball glass for himself and settles in the chair opposite mine. He leans back, crosses one leg over the other, takes a sip of what’s surely James whiskey, and studies me. The weight of his stare is like an anvil on my chest. There are very few people in this world whose opinions of me matter. For years, it was only my father. Then Cat came into my life. And now her grandfather.
Am I good enough for her? Probably not. And he knows that.
“How’s my granddaughter?” he asks with a slight tic of his lip.
Knowing that nothing has slipped by him, I go for the truth. “She was fine when I left her in New York, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
He nods once, confirming my suspicions that he keeps tabs on her whereabouts.
“But I’m afraid she’s in danger.”
His body goes rigid, and he sits up. “Danger?”
I fixate on a spot just over his shoulder, unable to say these next few words while looking at him. Because the truth is that I bear some responsibility for why the woman we both love is in this predicament.
I planted the disk. I aided my father in setting up their family. How can I even look myself in the mirror, let alone look this man in the eye?
“My father is out for revenge. I’m sure that’s no surprise to you.”
He remains stiff but gives a simple nod.
“Because of the affair,” I continue. “And because of what happened after. Your son broke my mother’s heart, and she killed herself…and my unborn brother.”
For the first time since I arrived, emotion filters across Theodore James’s face. His expression splinters, and he puts his drink on the side table. Then he stands and paces toward the window and back. He stops, regards me as if to say something, and then scoffs and shakes his head. With a few strides in the opposite direction, he’s in front of the window again, looking out toward the bay.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low. “I met your mother, you know.”
I clear my throat. “Did you?”
Turning, he shakes his head and smiles. “Your mother was a lot of things, but suicidal wasn’t one of them.” He closes his eyes for a long moment, and when he opens them again, a war wages within them. Then he tells me a secret that changes everything.
When he’s done speaking, all I know is that nothing will ever be the same.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper. Tilting forward, I brace my elbows on my knees and drop my head, at a complete loss.
Theo taps on the glass with his knuckles. “That makes two of us.” He chuckles, the sound full of torment. “I’ve tried to work it out over the last few weeks. How to deal with this development with you and Cat. I hoped it would be a passing thing. But…then I got your call. You love her,” he says, his cobalt eyes finding mine. The lines etched across his face show his age, the stress he’s endured. Likely because of my mother and Cat’s father. His company and ours. Life. He wears the years on his face, and in this moment, I feel every one of them.
The only truth I know with every fiber of my being is one thing. “Yes, I love her.”
He nods once and blows out another breath. “And she loves you?”
