The rest of the evening progressed in conversation dominated mainly by the two boys until I addressed Griffin. “Do you know you share the name of my best friend?”
“Really. Where is he?” Griffin sipped his coke, his eyes on me.
About to answer, I noticed Skye’s pained expression.
How does she know?
She’d been out of our lives for close on six years, who told her about Griffin? Did she know about the circumstances behind his death, about my injury, my fucking breakdown? If she did, why the fuck had she abandoned me when I needed her most? Suddenly angrier than when I’d spotted her at the field, I ground my teeth to keep from lashing out.
I directed my gaze back to Griffin. “He’s in heaven looking down on me.” My voice thickened with emotion, and I dropped my gaze to the table. A warm hand closing over mine had me lifting my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Skye gently squeezed my hand.
Our eyes stayed connected for a moment, and I choked on that ever-present ache I’d learned to live with since she disappeared. Half of me wanted to melt into her look of remorse, to pull her into my arms and never let go, to kiss her until my lips bled. The other half wanted to shake her, demand why she left me, how she knew.
“Thank you,” I managed instead and slid my hand out from hers, not missing her frown as I did.
“Mom said I got my name from a pact made by her two friends,” Griffin’s abrupt statement pulled my gaze.
My brow shot up the same time her head jerked from her son to me. “Really?” I rubbed my jaw. “Interesting.”
She quickly reacted. “I’m sure we don’t need to bore the nice man with how you got your name, baby.” She brushed a hand through his hair.
“It’s all right, I’m curious to hear this pact,” I urged Griffin with a smile.
Realizing she had no other escape than to admit she knew me, Skye sat back and scowled, reminding me of the younger girl I once knew.
“Mom said her two friends made a pact that they would name their first child after each other so they would remain friends for life.”
What the fuck?
His words slammed the breath out of me. I recalled the pact Griffin and I made when we were sixteen. It was the first time we drank alcohol. Pissed out of our minds, we’d cried like idiots, said how much we loved each other, made that pact then puked our fucking guts out. Next morning, we laughed until we cried but Griffin held me to the pact, and I promised.
Unfortunately, both of us never got that opportunity.
“Isn’t that cool,” Griffin pulled me out of my recollection.
“It is,” I replied, my eyes seeking Skye’s, willing her to look up from her drink and tell me why she chose to honor a pact that had no bearing on her. Even when Ryleigh found out she was pregnant with my child she’d refuted Griffin’s pact. Then she lost the baby, three months after I lost Skye and three years before I lost Griffin.
A fucking big bag of shit in a space of six years and I had no one to share it with. Now, the very person who would’ve made a difference if she stayed lifted big soulful eyes to me, begging for me to what? To understand? To forgive her? To not hate her?
Strange, how you say so much without saying anything, Blue. I could never hate you.
“Dad, how did I get my name?” Jesse asked his father, making us laugh and easing the tension that had settled around the table.
“Your grandfather was a fan of Jesse James inThe Assassination of Jesse James. When you were born, he insisted you be named after the American Old West bank robber.”
“Who?” Jesse looked confused for a moment, earning another round of laughter.
“Never mind, son.” Caleb said, squeezing his shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Shay, I need to use the bathroom, please.”
As I stood to let him slide out, Brax also got to his feet and shot me a curious look. “I’ll join you. You smoke?” I heard him ask Caleb as they walked away and only then did I realize he was deliberately giving me time alone with Skye.
Like she owed me one, fate played right into my hand. “Mom, can Jesse and I go to the kid’s center, please,” Griffin asked, already nudging Jesse to move.
I caught Skye’s horrified expression she tried hard to hide. She heard my chuckle and lavished me with narrowed eyes. Slipping my hands into my pants pockets, I leaned against the backrest of the booth, waiting for the boys to leave.
“Okay,” she finally relented.
