I save his number, staring at the new contact in my phone, and I feel . . . cheated.
“I need some time to process this, but I do want to get to know you,” I say, swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
“Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Maybe now is better than never.
I’m supposed to be at soccer practice.
Instead, I lied to my coach about being sick and faked a call from my parents to get me out of school so I could drive to the house I grew up in. The house where a family was built on lies and deceit.
It’s been two weeks since I met with Carter, and I’ve been scouring the internet for more information about the years surrounding the hidden gap in their relationship, but everything I’ve found has brought me to the same conclusion: Carter’s my dad’s kid.
I started texting Carter on and off again while digging through my parents’ old things for any proof he was Dad’s son, but there isn’t much at the beach house.
I know I need more proof before I can ask Dad why he abandoned Carter, and the house in Charlotte is my best chance.
I heard Hunter tell Kaitlyn earlier he talked to Mira, and I guess she’s going out with her coworkers tonight. I’ve been ignoring her and JJ’s calls because I’m not ready to find out if they knew about Carter or not.
When I spoke with Carter on the phone last night, I asked some questions about his childhood, and I didn’t realize how desperate I’d been for someone to connect with until I heard he played soccer. I love my brothers, but they’ll never understand what it’s like to grow up as the only son of the great Sebastian Walker who didn’t play football.
Maybe Mira would have understood if she hadn’t competed at the Olympics, but she can’t. For fuck’s sake, she was on a cereal box two years ago.
I’m great at soccer, yet it’s never seemed to hold a candle to the love my family has for football.
But now I don’t have to be alone.
I’ve been digging through boxes in the attic, hoping to find something, but also praying I won’t.
There’s so much dust covering everything up here, I can’t stop sneezing.
My fingers brush against what feels like an envelope, and I feel light-headed as I pull it from the bottom of a box filled with vintage Blue Panthers gear. Irecognize Dad’s handwriting in a heartbeat, pulling out the old letter and scanning it. It’s for my mom, and the date in the corner lines up with the dates from that summer.
Lia,
I hate being apart from you. I know I’ve said the same thing in all of my letters to you, but it’s true.We’ve wasted so much time.I wasted so much time because I didn’t listen to you. I was blinded by hurt, and I know you’ve forgiven me, but I’m not sure I’ve forgiven myself yet. I don’t like to think about the years we’ve spent apart, so I’m trying something different by thinking about everything I want with you.
I want a life with you, in any shape or form you’ll have me. I’d love to give you a ring and my last name, but they don’t mean everything to me anymore. I’d rather we choose each other every day for the rest of our lives because we want to, and not because we feel like we have to because of a piece of paper. You already have all of me.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever give this to you, but if I’m being selfish, I like to dream of the house on the beach you spoke about. You know I’ve always wanted a big family, but it doesn’t matter to me how we have it. Hell, ifit’d make you happy, Henry can have his own room at our house. I dream of trips to France, babies with your smile, and being your biggest fan. All of my dreams are withyou.
I have a lot of regrets, but leaving Kiera isn’t one of them. I shouldn’t have stayed with her as long as I did. I know her pregnancy complicates things, especially with the media, but you know the truth, and that’s all that matters to me.
I won’t apologize for loving you.
Forever yours,
Bash
A wet mark appears on the faded paper, and I lift a shaking hand to wipe my cheeks, surprised to learn I’m crying.
This letter means so many different things, but it’s practically an admission of my parents’ guilt.
Since I was little, my parents—but especially Dad—have been big on telling the truth.It’s never okay to tell a lie. One leads to more, and it turns into a never-ending cycle. Promises are meant to be kept.Now I see it for exactly what it means.
I’ve always wanted to be like my dad, but he’s the biggest liar of all.
I hate him for hurting Carter and his mom, for hurting me, and for the lies. Everything could have been so different.
