I chuckle. “I was born ready.”
And that’s exactly what we do for the next hour—eat as much Thai food as our stomachs can handle, and then some.
Chapter 40
Kaden
I walk into my father’s work shed to find him half-hidden under the hood of his 1986 Jaguar XJSC,Cold as Iceby Foreigner playing softly through the stereo. He’s so lost in whatever he’s doing that he doesn’t even notice me entering the room.
I decided to drop by after that odd encounter Hope and I had with him last night, an encounter that left me puzzled all throughout my drive home. He’s never been the type to act standoffish—that’s more my mother’s style—but my dad? He’s always been very welcoming. So seeing him freeze the way he did when he saw Hope, seemed completely out of character for him.
“Hey, Dad.”
My father lifts his head from the side of the hood, his eyes immediately finding mine. “Kaden! Second time this weekend. You must really miss me.”
I chuckle softly. “Well, you are getting old. Gotta check in more often to see if you’re still alive and breathing.”
“Hey, I’m only as old as I feel. And last I checked, I’m still running like the Energizer Bunny.”
I smile and nod. “Still working on the Jag? Thought it was finished?”
“Oh, it is, but gotta still service it from time to time. You know how it is with these old cars.”
I nod, knowing exactly what he means.
“So… what brings you here today, son? Is your lady friend here with you?” he asks, his gaze flicking towards the door as if expecting Hope to step through.
“No, she’s not. But that’s what I came here to talk to you about. What the hell was that about last night?”
He lowers his gaze, a flashof guilt shadowing his face as he tucks his grease-stained hands into his pockets. Silence hangs in the air for a heartbeat, his eyes almost distant, lost in thought.
“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make your friend uncomfortable. I was just a little taken aback by her. She looks so much like someone I used to know.”
“Who?”
He lets out a long, weary sigh, then says something I never expected to hear. “She looks so much like my ex-wife.”
My brows knit into a deep frown. My father, in all the years I’ve been alive, has never spoken about his ex-wife. I’ve only caught bits and pieces about her from my mother, but it’s one topic my father refuses to discuss. And out of respect for both my parents, I’ve never asked questions.
But the way he looked at Hope last night, the hesitation, the wide-eyed expression, as if he had glimpsed someonefamiliar, only deepens my curiosity about the woman who was once the centre of my father’s world.
“Why don’t you ever talk about her?” I ask him gently.
“Because it takes me back to a time when everything was perfect—until I went and destroyed it all. And I guess it still hurts to think about her, even after all these years.”
“Well, I’d like to get to know the woman who once made my father happy, especially if you think she resembles my friend. I don’t want any awkwardness between you and her. She means a lot to me, Dad.”
“I can tell,” he says, offering me a warm, understanding smile. “It’s written all over your face.”
I return a smile of my own and lean against the door frame with my arms crossed.
“I think if we’re going to go down this road, might as well crack open a couple of beers. You want one?” he asks, already making his way to the bar fridge he keeps in the shed.
I shake my head. “I’m okay. But I’ll take a water instead?”
My dad pulls out a beer and a bottle of water and passes me the water. We pop open our drinks and, in unison, take a long, satisfying sip.
“How much time have you got?” my dad asks as he takes another sip of his beer, a small one this time.
