“What’s wrong?” I tip her chin up with one finger, forcing her to look at me. She bites the inside of her cheek in an obvious tell, and I can almost hear her brain churning. “Just tell me.”
“I’ve wanted to mention it, but you didn’t bring him up, and I don’t want to upset you.”
My shoulders instantly stiffen, understanding who she’s referring to. “You’re texting with Noel?” I have trouble referring to him as my dad.
“I kept him updated when you were in the treatment center. I didn’t want to keep that from you, but your therapist feared talking about him might set you back. He told me to wait until you brought it up, but you never mention him, so I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“I don’t mention him because that’s still the one thing I’m really struggling with,” I admit, because I owe her this honesty. We spoke a little about this during our family therapy sessions at the center, but I haven’t discussed it since I came home for a reason.
It hurts too much to think about it.
Taking her plate, I pull her over to the table, helping her into a chair and putting a fork in her hand. “You need to eat, babe.” I kiss the top of her head and take a seat across from her. We’re both quiet for a few minutes. “What kind of a man fathers kids with two different women, women who were friends, and then abandons them both?” I ask, shaking my head.
“It wasn’t like that. He’s spoken to me about it.”
“You’ve talked with him?” I can’t hide my surprise.
She nods, slowly chewing as she contemplates how to tell me this. “Luc and I went to see him in Boston. It was after I’d spoken to your therapist. Noel was calling me almost daily, and I just needed to know the full picture before I could trust him with details of your recovery.”
My fork clangs to the table. “You’ve been to his house? Did you meet his wife and—” I’m unable to say it, because it’s all tied to my guilt. My half-brothers are innocent, and in shutting Noel out, I’m shutting them out too, and that doesn’t sit right with me. But I don’t know how to have a relationship with them if I don’t have one with our father. And do they even want one with me assuming they know what happened with Cory?
“I’ve met Clare and your brothers.” She offers me a shaky smile. “They look like you too. Wilder is fifteen, and he—” She stops, obviously noticing my expression. “I don’t have to tell you if you’d rather not know.”
“I’d like to know,” I whisper.
She reaches across the table and my hand meets hers half way. We link fingers and that small contact, that skin to skin touch, reminds me I’m not alone in this anymore. “Wilder reminds me of you so much. Not just physically, but he’s crazy about music and computers, and he plays the guitar and writes songs. He’s a typical teenager though,” she laughs. “I swear he pouts better than any girl I’ve ever met. Wes is a little sweetheart. He’s twelve, and he adores his big brother. He’s also very excited to meet you. He plays football and basketball, and he’s a really happy well-rounded kid. Clare was very warm and welcoming, and she was concerned about you.”
Her smile fades when she spots the pain in my eyes. She comes and sits beside me, squeezing both my hands. “Are you mad at me for not telling you? Because, I swear, I wanted to, but the center advised me not to pressure you to talk about anything, to take your lead, and to try and get things back to normal. I swear I’m not keeping anything else from you, and I was just trying—”
I shut her down with a kiss, reeling her into my arms and pouring all my emotions into our lip-lock. “Babe. I’m not mad at you. Not at all. No one has done more for me than you, and I could live a thousand lifetimes and never get to thank you enough.” I clasp her beautiful face in my hands. “You’re my rock, Zeta. You’ve kept everything going in my absence. My fans adore you. The band adores you. Luc adores you.” I rub a hand across her belly. “Our baby adores you. I adore you. So, no, I’m not mad at you. I’m just feeling … conflicted. I want to meet my brothers, but Noel …”
“Hang on a sec,” she says, getting up. “I have something that might help.”
She leaves the room, returning a few minutes later with something clutched in her hands. Reclaiming her seat, she hands the items to me. “They are from your brothers. They asked me to give them to you.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat as I open the handmade card from Wes, tearing up at his childish handwriting and the innocent sentiment behind his words. I look up at Zeta as I open the second page. “Wilder wrote you a song,” she softly explains, and tears roll down my face as I read over it.
“It’s good. Kid’s got talent,” I rasp, my lips breaking into a smile.
“It’s in his DNA.” She caresses my face. “I could arrange a meeting with them if you want. You don’t have to meet Noel. I can explain, and he’ll understand. I think he’s a good man, Ryder. He just wants to get to know you, and he understands it might take time, but I think it would be a mistake shutting him out of your life permanently.”
“Why does he want to know me? How can he forgive me for the things I’ve done?” That’s the crux of the issue for me. “How can I face him knowing I played a part in Cory’s death?”
“I don’t have all the answers, Ryder. You need to ask him that yourself. All I can tell you is he has accepted it, and he has forgiven you. I get a sense he blames himself too. For not being there for either of you.”
“Tell me what he told you. About Cory’s mom.”
She swivels in her chair until she’s facing me. “Are you sure you’re up to hearing it?” I nod, and she pecks my lips. “I love you, Rock Star.”
I kiss her back. “I love you too.”
Drawing a large breath, she starts to explain. “He told me that after he joined the army, he struggled to forget your mom even after everything she’d done to him. I think he really loved her at one time.”
She looks sad, and I kiss her forehead. Even after everything she’s seen and been through in her life, my wife is a firm believer in true love, and it saddens her that not everyone gets their happy ever after like us.
“Anyway,” she continues, “it had been over five years since he’d seen her, but she still occupied his thoughts, so he decided to pay her a visit. He’d just come off a particularly difficult mission, seen a lot of horrific things, and he wasn’t in a good place. Your mom wasn’t at home, but Monica spotted him leaving the house and cornered him. The gist of it was he was vulnerable and she was manipulative. They ended up having sex, and he walked away more disgusted with himself.”
“It seems I’m not the only one prone to moments of absolute stupidity,” I admit.
