I hesitated, but as I stared at him, I realized I needed a sounding board. Talking about my feelings wasn’t in my nature,but fuck. Everything I’d been thinking all day was rising from within like a tide, and it needed an outlet.
“Let’s go outside,” Jameson said.
He led me downstairs to an enclosed patio with roaring flames in a fire pit, comfortable, padded chairs all around it, and a drinks cart ready in the corner.
Jameson pointed at one of the chairs. “Sit. I’ll get the drinks.”
Restlessness surged through me, so instead of sitting, I started pacing, but as I watched him slide the door shut behind us, the whole sordid story tore right out of me. He hadn’t even reached the damn drinks cart yet.
“Brody is mine. He’s my son. I didn’t know. I only found out yesterday. Fucking yesterday. The kid is seven, Jamie. That’s seven years I’ve missed out on. Missed everything. Seven years I should’ve been there for.”
Jameson didn’t interrupt, letting me sort through my thoughts out loud. He did finally press a drink into my hand, though. The tumbler was filled with one of Sterling’s top shelf Scottish whiskeys and I took a deep gulp, instantly deciding that if this was therapy, Jameson was the best therapist I’d ever heard of.
I hadn’t realized until this very minute how much I’d been needing someone to just hear me out with no judgment and no interruptions. I kept pacing. Drinking. Pacing some more. Finally, I continued. “I should be angry. Fuck, Iamangry. I’m so pissed, I feel like I could rip this place apart with my bare hands. I’m angry at her, and at myself, and at the situation, but mostly, I’m so fucking angry at the guy I used to be.”
Jameson sat down in one of the chairs, sipping his drink. He watched me pace but he still didn’t say anything.
“She was right to be scared of telling me, Jamie. That’s what hurts the most. She said she didn’t tell me because I wouldn’thave believed her and she’s right. I wouldn’t have. I would’ve walked away without looking back.”
My brother’s lips twitched like he wanted to make a joke, but for once in his life, he didn’t. “You’re not that guy anymore, Callum. We all made mistakes back then, but we were kids. The best we can do now is to focus on the future. To be better going forward than we were in the past.”
“I know, but that doesn’t erase the guilt. It doesn’t erase missing out on him, on us, for seven fucking years.”
“She chose to protect Brody,” he said evenly. “She did what she thought was best, based on the information she had at the time. That doesn’t make you any less a father. Or any less her fiancé, for that matter. You’ve got to accept that. You missed out on the first seven years, but it doesn’t mean you need to miss out on the next seventy. Or however many years you’ve got left.”
“I know.” I gulped down the rest of my drink, then started pacing again. “It’s just hard to reconcile the boy I used to be with the man I’m trying to be now, you know? It fucking sucks that she was forced to grow up and she’s raised this awesome kid, and I spent the rest of my time at college guzzling beer, fucking cheerleaders, and playing a game that didn’t even matter because I’ve always known I was going to work for the company as soon as I graduated.”
Jameson grinned. “It sounds like you’re finally growing up, little brother. I wish I could warn you to turn back. To cancel your subscription to adulthood. All that stuff, but it’s too late. You’re already right in the thick of things, so all I can really say is that Brody is lucky to have you now.”
I laughed dryly and shook my head. “I don’t know about that. I don’t know if he will have me because I’m not sure Maisie’s ever going to forgive me, man. I’m also not sure she should.”
“She will. Just give her time. And maybe get some sleep, huh?”
I nodded, watching the firelight flicker across the stone walls, but feeling his eyes on me.
He just came right out with it. “Are you going through with it tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if I can.” I finally dropped into a chair and groaned, setting my empty glass down and scrubbing my hands over my face. “God knows, I want to. I want her. I wantus. I want Brody and the fucking chaos of away games. I want all of it.”
Jameson’s eyes narrowed. “So what’s stopping you?”
“Me. I’m stopping me.” I exhaled. Even to my own ears, the sound was hopeless and ragged. “I’ve been a dick. I’ve been selfish. I spent all day pretending like everything was fine while she’s been in her room, probably thinking I hate her. I haven’t spoken to her since last night. I don’t know what to say or do to fix this.”
“Sometimes, the only way to do it, is to do it,” he said. “You just have to start. It doesn’t really matter where. You’re not going to get it perfect. You just have to try. Fuck, man, not even Sterling got it right the first time around, but he didn’t give up.”
I nodded, but the tension in my chest was still making it ache. “What if she doesn’t show up tomorrow? What if she’s realized that Brody deserves better?”
Jameson gave me a pointed look. “Then you’ll deal with it when it happens, but worrying about it won’t change what’s going to happen. You do need to get some sleep though, or tomorrow’s going to be a disaster before it even gets here.”
I didn’t answer, but I knew he was right. A few minutes later, I was back in my room and I stripped down, fully intending on getting the sleep I knew I needed, but it was impossible. Every corner of the room echoed with the memory of her voice last night, of her tears, and the way she’d bolted when I’d raised my voice like an ogre.
So I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with my heart drowning. I wished I could just go to her room, pull her into my arms, and tell her everything I felt. Tell her that if she gave me just one more chance, I’d never leave her again.
Instead, I drifted in and out of a shallow sleep all night, wondering if she would still be here tomorrow. I didn’t know if she could ever forgive me, but I desperately wanted to try and earn it. Despite everything else, I still fucking loved her. I loved Brody.
Life was so much better and fuller with them in it, and now that I’d had a taste of it, I didn’t want to lose it. Not without a fight, at least. Definitely not without even trying.
CHAPTER 44
