“Looking for your ex-boy toy?” Leo slides in, licking his lips.
“Excuse me?” I say, furrowing my brow.
“He decided on something a little younger. Sally?” Leo says, tapping his chin like a condescending asshole. “No, wait.” He snaps. “Polly. That’s it. Polly. He’s probably fucking her in the bathroom again. I can’t believe he tapped your old pussy for so long. We all like them young. Everyone knows that.” His nefarious gaze flits over to Kendall.
My stomach sinks, and my brain does that funny swimming thing that happens before I faint. It’s only happened once before, many years ago. I steady myself on the table next to us and take several deep breaths. Leo walks away, cackling under his breath.
“Is that little asshole bothering you, Mrs. Sager?” A low, Southern voice rolls over me.
“I’m fine,” I say, keeping my face down.
He clears his throat, so I force myself to acknowledge the voice. It’s Aidan’s friend, Mercer. He smiles a lopsided grin. “Don’t believe anything he says. He’s been fighting with Aidan for months. Rabid. Fucking. Fighting. Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am?”
I’m not okay. “Don’t call me ma’am. Or Mrs. Sager. I’m not married. It’s Magnolia!” I scream, and people turn to gawk at me. “Is he with Polly?” I choke on the name of the girl who came to his house the first night I was there. The memory is hazy because it has been replaced with good things, but it’s funny how much I overlooked at the start. Why? Because his touch felt like magic. Because his words were a salve to my soul. Because I fell in fucking love with the devil himself.
Mercer looks uneasy. “I’m sorry, Magnolia. I didn’t mean any offense,” he drawls, holding up two palms. “Can I get you anything?”
“Answer my question,” I growl.
He glances away toward the table of SEALs and then back toward me. “I don’t know,” he whispers. “I don’t know what game Leo is playing at, but it’s dangerous.”
Mercer walks away and leaves me alone in a crowded room, my body turned inside out. Others have to be able to sense my vulnerable state, it has to be on display. It shouldn’t affect me. Aidan has moved on. Or moved back to his old ways. I was a fool to believe I’d changed him. I was merely another stop on his whore train to pound town. I bet he does the falling act for every woman. It’s how he hooks them. Makes himself seem like an honorable, desirable candidate.
Mercer may not know what game Leo is playing at, but I’m about to find out. Not for myself, no. For my daughter.
FIFTEEN
Aidan
San Diego—Two Months Ago
There hadto be a point in falling in love. A lesson learned. Something to be gained by feeling this pain. The address was crumpled in my pants pocket. I’d already memorized it, I kept it because it’s in her handwriting. It’s how I’m hanging on to the impossible. I vomited in Magnolia’s front yard before making my way to the airport to head here. The scenario plays over and over anytime I close my eyes. I haven’t slept. I’m barely eating. Not only won’t Magnolia pick up my calls, I know she never will. Not after seeing the strength of a mother-daughter bond for myself. That is sacred. An outsider is what I’d always be.
I finished all of my medical tests at noon. Before I knew what I was doing, or why, I ended up parked in front of their house—in a nondescript middle-class neighborhood. It’s the kind of neighborhood bad guys hide in. The kind so plain and unappealing new people rarely move in and residents nevermove away. It’s a prison. An illusion of security with a hard edge that only I can feel.
There are no cars in the driveway, but I know my father always parks his vehicles inside the garage. A fact I doubt time changed. I get out of my rental car and survey the area with a keen eye. I wait, but the dread doesn’t come like I assumed it would. A sense of relief washes over me, and I hate that she’s right. That she’s won another piece of me I’ll never get back. I need this.
Pacing slowly, I don’t think about what I’ll say if they’re home, only seeing them, letting them see me. A whole, self-made man. Sure, I’ve arrived today as a man who has nothing to lose, but this journey began on completely different terms—back before I lost everything.
I can be a man worthy. Magnolia showed me that. It has to be the takeaway. There’s no other logic I can wrap my brain around when I think about the time we spent together and what she taught me. I ring the doorbell once and wait. She opens it, and I see the second her confusion turns to sorrow—regret. The years have been kind to her, the lines on her face deeper than they were when I was a child. Her hair is gray, and the frown lines around her mouth are deep and telling. Happiness never lived inside her.
“Aidan, son, is that you? Oh my gosh, get in this house right now and give your mama a hug,” she croons, voice creaky from disuse.
I laugh. “You want a hug?” I choke out. “You want a hug,” I repeat, shaking my head, motherfucking tears already threatening. “Is he home?” I ask.
She looks down at her feet and shakes her head. “He died, son. Five years ago.”
I try to swallow, but it’s lodged in my throat, along with my breath. I hold it in for several more seconds before I blow it out,rough and noisily. “Jesus,” I whisper, as my legs give out. I sit right there on the cement in front of the door and put my face in my hands.
She leans over and puts a hand on my back. I jerk away. “I tried to get in touch with you, but the Navy wouldn’t give me the information. I’m sorry, son.” Every time she calls me “son,” my skin prickles. There’s a reason they wouldn’t give her the information. I told them not to. “He was so proud of what you made of yourself, Aidan. You should know that. Every single day he prayed for your safety. Prayed you’d find your way home to us so that he could shake your hand. You did it.”
Emotion floods her voice, and it’s the last straw. A traitorous tear slides against the palm pressed to my face.
I’m not angry. I’m not confused. I’m furious with sadness. “I did do it,” I say, looking up at her. The same position I was in my entire childhood. “All by myself,” I call, shaking my head. “Not because of anything he did. Because of the man I made myself.”
Her eyes glaze over. “I know we were awful parents. I know, son. We weren’t sure how to make sure you grew up successfully. We didn’t know. I’m sorry. Your father was sorry. But look,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “You are a hero. A strong, brave hero.”
“Not because of you,” I deadpan. “Despite you. You guys were fucked up. Think how strong and brave I’d be if you actually loved me.”
