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“I told her that we’re dating and that it’s serious. And that I really enjoy being with you and Aria. And then we talked about her a little bit,” she says on an inhale. “Nolan, I want the pregnancy to be between us for a bit, at least until I know it’s real.” Her eyes turn down to the headstone she’s brought me to.
“Anything you want, it’s yours,” I assure her that whatever she wants, I will provide.
“Thank you for letting me meet your mom.” She smiles up at me before looking back down to the ground and I follow the motion, bringing my eyes down to a headstone that protrudes from the ground, and I read over the setting.
Travis Young. Beloved father, husband and friend.
And then the dates to follow.
I look over the wording one more time.
Young.
Travis Young.
Suddenly, my heart drops to my stomach. Everything fogging over in a haze of confusion.
The death date is the same date as…
There’s no way.
“Dakota, how did you say your dad died again?” I ask her, fearing the answer I’m anticipating.
“I guess we never really talked about it, other than it was on his construction site,” she says, glazing over his headstone before bringing her eyes up to my panicked ones. And I see something shift in her stare, almost like she’s come to the realization of something.
“Was it by chance a scaffolding incident? Seven years ago?” Her face morphs into sadness, not so much confusion as it’s a look of acceptance, but it’s sad.
I try to search her face, looking back down to her dad’s grave. I can feel her stare bore into me with a heavy weight, knowing that she can sense my panic as well.
“Nolan.” Dakota steps to me, closing the space that’s keeping us apart.
I feel anger bubble in my throat. Not at her, but angry with myself. I remember that night, I remember what happened.
The accident.
It changed my life forever.
I feel her fingers graze my skin slightly, her eyes waiting for mine to look back. But I can’t. If she knew, she wouldn’t be standing here so calmly with me.
Shit, she wouldn’t be here at all.
She reaches for my cheek, resting her palm against the stubble of my beard.
“You knew my dad, didn’t you?”
My breathing comes in heavy, harsh hits. The feeling of her skin on mine mixed with the anger building inside of me clashes with guilt. I’ve had to live with that moment for nearly five years before I told myself to move on. And even then, even now, it’s hard. But looking into her eyes finally, I see it. There arehiseyes.
“Dakota, there’s something you need to know.” I lower her hand from my face and replace it with my own, rubbing my jaw in agony, wondering what news like this might do to her.
She doesn’t look too feigned though, and that makes it even harder for me to confess. Because I know she’s never prepared herself for the truth of what happened to her dad. Because I was never able to look back after it all.
“I didn’t just know your dad, Dakota. I killed him.”
thirty-eight
Dakota
“Wait,whatthefuckdid you just say? My dad died in a construction accident, Nolan.” His words ring heavily in my ears, loud but almost distorted.
