“Taking the day off?” I ask since he’s usually at the shop by now.
“Heading in later.”
“How was your date with Hannah?”
“Good.”
“Marcus,” I say when he starts putting away his tools instead of being more forthcoming. When he’s in a bad mood, trying to get him to open up can be an almost impossible endeavor. He’s very much like Fallon in that way.
“I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”
He slams the hood closed. “Did Fallon tell you?”
“Yes. But Jayson came over last night before Fallon got here.”
“I swear to Christ,” he gripes, his face full of worry. “Areyouokay?”
I tenderly brush my fingers through his hair. “Yeah, honey, I’m fine. I promise. I’m more worried about you. Fallon said you punched him.”
Clearly aggravated, he stands up and grabs the tray of tools. “Damn straight I did. I can’t believe he came to the house after all the shit he’s pulled. I hope you told him to fuck right off, then shut the door in his face.”
Getting to my feet as well, I follow him as he stalks to the other side of the garage. “Are you mad because of Elizabeth Ann? Because he stopped coming to Seattle to celebrate her birthday?” I ask, trying to figure out where all the anger is coming from.
The tray lands with a loud clatter when he drops it onto the rolling tool cabinet. “That’s part of it.”
I quickly get in his way when he tries to go around me. “Then what’s the other part?”
My children can never look me in the eye and lie to me, so I know he’s about to do exactly that when he turns his head and aims his gaze at the wall of tools.
So, I decide to ambush him.
“I found Ryder’s letter to Charlotte. I know why you sent me to Italy.” His shocked amber eyes fly forward, and his mouth opens, but nothing comes out. “You should have told me.”
His lips fold under as he scrutinizes me. “If we did, you wouldn’t have gone.”
True. I would have let shame and stubbornness guide my decision. As much as I abhor having my choice taken from me, I don’t regret this one. I can’t. Not when it brought Fallon back into my life when I needed him the most.
Taking Marcus’s shoulders, I tell him, “I’m so blessed to have you, Christopher, and Charlotte.”
To have children who love me unconditionally and want me to be happy. I’m so proud of each of them and the adults they are growing into. There will always be bumps in the road. That’s just part of life. But it’s what you do in that life that matters.
His mouth downturns. “Buthe’sgoing to screw everything up,” Marcus says, thehebeing Jayson.
“Is that why you hit him?”
Pulling back, he crosses his arms over his chest. “No. I hit him because he deserved it.”
“Why do I feel like there’s more to that than you’re telling me?” Again with the averted gaze. “I’m going to see him later.”
“He doesn’t?—”
“It’s not your decision,” I reply determinedly before he can finish. “Jayson and I share a history and a daughter.Yoursister. He’s part of our family, just as much as Julien and Elijah are.”
Jayson holds a permanent place in my heart, and I will never cut him out of my life, no matter how angry I am with him.
“I called him when Dad was in the hospital.” Marcus swallows hard, nodding once. “I begged him to come see Dad.” He drags a hand through his dark hair—his father’s hair, his father’s eyes, but the pain in them is all his own. My eldest son, my beautiful boy, who carries so much more than he ever should have. “I told him that Dad didn’t have much time. That if he ever loved him, even a little, he’d come.”
I can picture it too vividly—the desperation of a son as he watched his father quickly deteriorate, wanting to give him the peace of closure before he left this world by reaching out to the man who had been his father’s best friend.
