She fell silent when she caught us walking through the door.
“I’m ready to go now, Maeve,” Dad remarked stiffly.
Sensing an opportunity to finally get this dreaded conversation the hell over with, I nodded curtly. “Me, too.” Both of my parent’s swiveled to look at me—one with a pleasant surprise, the other with unwavering hardness.
“You’re not going to stay with your bandmates and drink all the bar’s contents?” My father scoffed.
“Guess I’m not all that thirsty today.” I retorted, holding his gaze. He looked away first, sending a disapproving scowl to where Evan and Dare were standing with two pretty blondes sidled beside them.
“This is a funeral reception, not pick up hour.”
I said nothing in response, mostly because there wasn’t anything for metosay. What the guys did on their own time was their business, not mine, and certainly not my father’s. Besides, Gramps likely would have been amused watching Evan try to score with the same girl who’d accidentally pulled his pants down and laughed at him in grade six during gym class.
“I’ll let your sister know we’re leaving.” Mom interrupted a strained moment later, before she walked the bar’s length to where Connor stood with a couple of her friends. I couldn’t make out what my mother was saying, but Connor’s eyes lifted to mine. I shook my head once, silently communicating that she didn’t need to come with us.
My sister held up her finger and mouthed the words “just a minute” to her friends before following Mom. She came to a stop in front of Dad.
“I’m going to crash at Michelle’s tonight if that’s okay? I don’t get to see her anymore.”
“All right, but don’t accept drinks from strangers. And don’t leave your drink unattended. Call a cab, or call me—“
“I know the routine, Daddy.” Connor smiled as she stepped forward to hug him. A moment later she pulled away and hugged Mom before she turned to me, her eyes searching and apprehensive. I tried to reassure her as best as I could silently, but I knew she worried I’d be gone by the time she got home.
Depending on how the conversation went, I very well could be…but at least I wasn’t going far this time.
Dad led the way to the car, parked down the street. Rather than get in with them and drive, I opted for the heel-toe express. I tugged the pack of cigarettes out of my coat while my dad held the passenger door open for my mother, and she climbed in. “See you back at the house,” I said before sliding one between my lips.
He shook his head with disgust at the cigarette in my mouth as I clicked the lighter and lit the smoke. Dad’s door slammed shut, and a moment later, he was pulling out of the parking spot and driving down the street. My boots thudded against the cold concrete sidewalk as I started walking. While I smoked, my thoughts drifted to Harper…and to Asher.
In less than seven days, everything had exorbitantly changed in my life. Music couldn’t fill the emptiness I’d felt before gazing upon Harper’s face again. Seeing her desire for me still living and reflected in her irises, I wanted to stay and never leave her…and that was before I even knew about the kid.
Our kid.
I couldn’t help but think about all the challenges she must have faced over the years, trying to raise our son and pursue her own dreams. It pained me that she hadn’t believed I would support her, but I couldn’t expect any different. I’d left, I hadn’t come back, hadn’t so much as picked up a goddamn phone to text her. I only had myself to blame.
But those days of running were over. They were over the moment I saw her again, and now that I knew about Asher, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to leave them both again. I closed my eyes, regret plowing into me.
The first thing I was going to need to do was to call my lawyer and figure out how much child support I owed. I owed her a hell of a lot more than a cheque, that was for damn sure. There was a lot of shit to figure out, but I was determined to make it right. I wouldn’t stop until I’d repaired all that I’d damaged.
Feeling steadier in my resolve, I walked up the front steps of my parents’ house and drew in a deep breath before opening the door.
The kettle was screeching when I walked inside, so I headed toward the kitchen, finding both of my parents there. When I rounded the corner, Dad was lifting the kettle from the burner. He didn’t look up as he poured the boiling water into two of my mom’s favourite teacups—the ones she inherited from her mother.
Mom was sitting at the table, a bottle of Advil and a glass of water in front of her. She perked up when she noticed me lingering in the doorway. My hands were shoved into my pockets to hide their trembling. “Would you like a tea, Calum?” she asked.
“No, I’m good, Ma. Thanks.” I tugged out a chair and sat down across from her, letting a sigh escape and placing my hands against table’s cold oak surface. “I have something I need to tell you both.”
“Figures.” Dad huffed, his brows knitting together with contempt, placing Mom’s tea down in front of her. She shot him a warning look before returning her attention to me.
“What is it?” She leaned toward me and took my hand. My father remained standing, slightly to the left of Mom. I watched him for a beat—taking in how he was already preparing himself for the immediate disappointment he knew I’d cause.
I couldn’t remember a time when my fatherwasn’talways expecting the worst out of me, and I inwardly deflated at the thought that yet again, I was proving him right.
But that would end here. I sat up taller, not letting my father’s contempt shrink me down. No more running. No more disappearing.
“It turns out that I…have a son.” I swallowed, my eyes seeking my mother. Time stood eerily still while my parents stared at me. Dad’s eye started twitching. I swallowed hard before continuing. “With Harper. He’s almost eight…and…” I lifted my hand, pushing it through my dark hair as I struggled to find more words to fill this devastating silence.
Mom let out a little squeak, her hands coming to cover her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.
