“Perfect time for a little … hmm … let’s see.” She picks up the remote. “Ohhh, I know,The Proposal.”
She starts prattling on about the plot as she selects the film and presses play. Less than an hour later, I smell my coffee-maker brewing its daily fresh pot. The sun is just starting to rise, casting a warm glow through my balcony doors, and I’ve forgotten all about my dream and my uncle calling me. I’m completely satisfied and whole with Olivia in my arms as we watch Sandra Bullock realize Ryan Reynolds is the richest guy in Alaska.Okay, maybe these rom-com movies aren’t so bad after all.
We both doze off toward the end, and it isn’t until after seven, when we wake up and Olivia hops in the shower, that I read my uncle’s message.
P
Your father has passed on, son.
P
We still need to talk.
I stare at the message for a long moment, letting it register how unaffected I am to hear that the man who made me, the one I lived under since the day I was born, has died.
I don’t have one cherished memory of him. Not one pang of grief for him. All this means is that maybe I’mfinallyfree of the shadow that has haunted me for years. I can’t bring back my mother, but maybe now I can just live my life as my own man and finally make Olivia mine for good. Maybe the deep, dark sins of my past can be buried with my father.
Rising out of bed, I leave Duke snoozing at the foot of it as I toss on my sweats and move quickly through the dewy morning grass into my workshop, placing my phone on the top of the butcher block work desk.
P
I’m meeting with Cale McAllister this morning. You really should call me and we can discuss arrangements for your father’s service.
P
Come home, Asher.
Pete was my safe space when I was young, but I can feel his fingers trying to pull me back in, and I want nothing to do with it. Letting him go is how I protect Olivia and the baby. So no trace of my former life can touch either one of them.
As I pick up a hammer from the hooks above the bench and bring it down harshly, striking the screen of my phone, I feel fucking free. I’ll have to get a new one, with a new number, later. But for now, I can say goodbye. My father is gone.
I strike again as memories run through my head—of every time he screamed at my mother, struck me, or made me watch him beat somebody without remorse. Of when he paraded his mistresses around like my mother wasn’t watching, like she wasnothing.Of the nights I slept on that cold, hard cot in prison, realizing my family caring about me meant making sure I had enough in commissary but never coming to visit me as I rotted for them.
I remember them all as the phone turns into dust, my chest heaving as I stare down at the remnants. Tossing the hammer down, I swipe the broken glass and components into the trash before steadying my breath, feeling better than I have since I arrived in Laurel Creek. Because I’m no longer running from my past. I’m saying goodbye to it.
James Ari Donovan, good fucking riddance.
CHAPTER 50
Olivia
SEPTEMBER
EIGHTEEN WEEKS
Fall is coming. A quickening in the air like a baby’s first movements. Little flutters as gentle as the leaves falling from the trees. Seasons change and so do we, inevitably and beautifully.
My thumb traces the soft, warm face of my angel niece Ruby Rae Carter, who was finally born in the middle of the night, fast and furious, three weeks ago. No matter how many times I’ve seen her since she was born, I can’t get enough. Her mouth moves—like she never stops being hungry—while I rock her gently back and forth.
“I might never give her back,” I tell CeCe. She’s sitting on her sofa in her and Nash’s home, happy but utterly exhausted. Her blond hair is piled high on her head and she’s wearing a soft pair of nursing-friendly pajamas. Nash is home with her and the baby for another week, and I love watching the adorable way he fawns and fusses all over Ruby.
“It’s amazing how someone so tiny can turn your life completely upside down,” CeCe says with a tired smile as she sips the matcha we brought over while munching on her favorite from Spicer’s Sweets, a jumbo blueberry muffin. “It’s taking moments like this when you can just rest and let someone else hold her for a minute that feel so good. Make sure you do that,” she orders me, already such a mom.
I look out to Asher sitting on the back deck with Nash, drinking coffee and watching the bubbling creek behind Nash and CeCe’s house.
“Are you two going to find out what the sex of the baby is?” she asks around her bite.
I shake my head. “No. We sort of made a wager with my parents, and it might be fun to find out at the time. Ash says there are very few real surprises in life, ya know?”
