“Another huge regret I still carry is not teaching you girls about where you came from, but I want you to understand that I didn’t know either. Not really. Not like I do now. Because my father was in the army, our only goal when he was stationed somewhere new was to assimilate. To become as American as possible. We didn’t even speak Korean at home because they wanted me to be fluent in English. I had to blend in wherever we went, and that’s hard when you’re the only Asian kid in school. Not every school I transferred to, but a lot of them.”
I knew my grandparents were strict, and because he was in the army, they moved around a lot, but I don’t think I realized how tough that lifestyle would’ve been on my mom.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I have a lot of regrets, but I’m trying to do things differently. I’m trying to enjoy my retirement. I want to try new things and old things and give things a chance that maybe I wasn’t ready for earlier in my life.”
The revolving door of hobbies certainly makes more sense now. And maybe I should just accept that Mom and I are on different journeys to reclaim our roots. Hell, even Isla and I are on different journeys. I shouldn’t keep expecting Mom to be the one to teach me when I can learn about it myself and make it a bigger part of Jules’s life than it was in mine.
“Do you regret not remarrying after Dad?” The question spills out of me before I can stop it. I have always wondered, though. I don’t even remember her going on dates after the divorce. From the outside, it looked like she gave up on the concept of love altogether.
“No, not at all,” she replies confidently. “I dated a few men, but I enjoy my alone time far too much to share my house with another person. If I wanted to remarry, I promise you, I would’ve.”
“Well, maybe we’re the same in that way.”
She shakes her head, her gaze almost sad. “No, we’re not, Lindsay. You feel things deeply, and you love with every bone in your body. You’re three parts passion, one part empathy. All you do is love.”
“What about fury?” I ask, surprised she didn’t mention my temper in her measurement of my soul.
“Passion is a coin with two sides. It can become love or fury depending on how it falls.”
“I guess that’s true.”
She lets out a sigh. “For a long time, I was worried your dad and I messed you up so badly, you weren’t capable of the kind of love we always wanted for you.”
I jerk back. “And what aboutthismakes you think I’m not messed up?”
“Sweetie, go look in a mirror. You might be messed up now, but it’s not because you’re incapable of love. It’s written all over your face. Just like it was the day we met Dominic.”
“What are you saying?” I ask, my heart pounding.
“I’m saying maybe he hasn’t left at all. Don’t make assumptions. Go go talk to him.”
Chapter 19
LINDSAY
Nic isn’t answering his phone. It’s going straight to voicemail. He’s not answering his texts either. What I’d normally dismiss as rejection by an asshole, I’m freaking out that maybe something terrible has happened.
As soon as it hits eleven on Saturday morning, I drop Jules off with Camilla and head straight for the bar. Vyla and Natalie are pulling the stools off the tables when I walk in, and Riz is wiping the tables down.
“When was the last time any of you heard from Dominic?” My voice is loud and thick and shaky with nerves, but I don’t care. If my mom is right, he could be in pain and in need of help.
Riz and Vyla both say they saw him here at the bar two days ago, and Natalie saw him the day before that.
“Two days? That doesn’t seem odd to any of you? Two whole days without any communication?”
The three of them look at each other, trying to decide if I’m right.
“Well, there have been stretches where he has a few days off in a row,” Vyla points out.
“Yeah, and we knew his rut was coming,” Riz adds. “He usually texts me the day it arrives and lets me know he can’t come in, but I assumed––”
“His rut? What’s that?” I have no idea what they’re talking about, but I know for sure this is something he’s never mentioned to me.
“His rut,” Riz repeats. When I continue to look at Riz like he’s speaking another language, he asks, “Has he not told you about that yet?”
I shake my head, panic creeping up my spine. “Okay, can we skip past the part where you all hem and haw about whether he should be the one to explain it and just fucking tell me?”
Vyla is the one to explain it to me, and even when she does, I ask her to explain it again.
