Nine years old. His son would have been old enough for little league, soccer, football. Old enough to enjoy skateboarding, riding his bike, playing video games, building Lego cities with those small, careful hands.
What would he have looked like? Would he have had Autumn’s dark curls or Seth’s own dusty blond hair? Would he have been tall, like the Coopers? Or short and small-boned like his mother? What would he have dreamed of being when he grew up—an astronaut, construction worker, professional athlete, or a cop like his father and grandfather?
When would he have cut his first tooth? Taken his first steps? Spoken his first word? Gone to his first day of school?
He’d never know. All the answers to his questions—along with every memorable milestone—had been brutally and heartlessly stolen from his life.
Because of me.
Seth’s chest caved in. His knees buckled.
A strangled sound tore from his throat—half sob, half roar. The room spun. He couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in, the air too thick, too heavy with ghosts and guilt and the suffocating weight of everything he’d lost.
He had to get out.
Seth stumbled backward, his shoulder hitting the doorframe. He barely felt it. His vision tunneled as he lurched down the hallway, past the nursery he couldn’t face, past the kitchen with its cheerful bouncy seat and memories of off-key singing.
His hands slammed against the front door. He wrenched it open and burst onto the porch, gasping for air like a drowning man breaking the surface.
He needed to fucking leave here. Right now.
With impatient hands, he locked the house as if it could lock away his memories. Then he hauled ass to the SUV, shoved the key in the ignition, started the engine, and peeled out of the driveway. Tires squealing, he barreled down the street, out of the neighborhood, and out of the little town he’d once thought was perfect.
By the time he reached the highway, the small measure of progress he’d felt while holding Anna—the fact that he hadn’t completely freaked out—felt meaningless now, crushed under the weight of his oppressive guilt.
He wasn’t over his fucking past.
He was still broken, still fucked up, still mired in grief and guilt and whatever was making him unable to move on.
And Beck and Heavenly... Christ, what had he been thinking? How could he risk putting them through the horrible end that Autumn and Tristan had suffered? How could he be selfish enough to want a family when he’d already proven he couldn’t protect them?
The blades of doubt that had plagued him before taking Heavenly without protection sliced through him again, each one sharper and cutting deeper. What if his past caught up to them? What if his love destroyed them? What if history repeated itself?
Mentally trapped in a loop of what-ifs and should-have-beens, he careened through the city. The future that had seemed possible mere hours ago now felt like a beautiful lie he’d told himself to avoid facing the truth.
Some wounds never healed. And he’d been a fool for thinking otherwise.
“Have you heard from your sister or her new husbands?” Heavenly glanced at River, currently sprawled behind his desk, rearranging Seth’s client files by date and priority.
He watched with obvious amusement. “I got a text from Raine yesterday. According to her, the Louvre was ‘educational’ and the Eiffel Tower was ‘romantic.’ I’m calling bullshit. I bet they’ve barely stopped fucking long enough to leave their hotel room.”
Heavenly’s cheeks heated as she turned back to the filing cabinet. “You’re terrible!”
“I’m honest. They may be honeymooning in Paris, but you actually think they’re sightseeing? Trust me… They’re getting plenty of something, but it’s not culture.”
Heavenly laughed. “Maybe. But I’m excited for them to get back on Sunday. I can’t wait to hear about the sights they did see. Have you checked on Liam’s sisters? I called Tuesday, and they seemed to be juggling those adorable baby girls.”
“Talked to them this morning. Meg said everyone is fine. Ciara and Catronia are handfuls, but nothing some rocking and burping can’t fix. Aisling called it ‘enjoyable chaos.’ I told them to call me if they need anything.”
Heavenly grinned as she rearranged the stack of invoices on Seth’s credenza. “Liam’s sisters are sweet, and they adore their nieces.”
“Like I do. But don’t tell anyone,” he said in a stage whisper. “I might have to give up my man card.”
She rolled her eyes as she began dusting Seth’s desk. “I don’t think anything could make you give that up.”
River laughed, then gestured her way with his coffee mug. “You know you don’t have to stress-clean Seth’s office. He won’t blame you if there’s a pen out of place.”
“No, he’ll blame you, so you’re welcome,” she quipped. “Honestly, I’m just eager to get him home tomorrow and hear about his visit with his family. Since my last class got canceled today and he’s been under so much stress, I thought I’d lighten his load.”
