Reed sees the doubt on my face. “It’s true. He screwed around on her while he jetted all over the world with Uncle Steve, who, by the way, was cheating on Dinah from day one.”
I swallow a lump of unhappiness. I hate hearing stuff like that about my father, which is weird because I didn’t even know the guy.
“Dinah didn’t care, though. She married Uncle Steve for his money, everyone knew it. And she had her own pieces of ass on the side. But Mom was different. She cared.”
“Did she have proof that Callum was cheating?” I ask tentatively.
“He was gone all the time, and he was always with Steve, a guy who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
I wince. “That’s not real proof, Reed. It’s just suspicion. Why are you so sure he’s guilty?”
“Because he is.” Reed’s adamant. I want to argue some more, but he doesn’t give me the chance. “Mom was depressed, and she was taking a lot of pills.”
“I heard there was a mix-up with her prescription? And her doctor went to jail or something?”
“There was no mix-up,” he says bitterly. “She was on meds for depression and insomnia, but she started self-dosing, taking more than she was supposed to. And she was drinking a lot, too…” His voice shakes. “It got worse and worse, and Dad was never home, so it was up to us to take care of her.”
“It’s awful to be helpless,” I murmur, thinking about how I had to take care of my mom when she was sick.
Realization flares in his eyes as he recognizes that I know exactly how he feels—watching someone you love be eaten by a disease that is out of control and knowing you can’t do a damn thing about it.
“Yeah. Worst thing in the world.”
“How do you know it wasn’t an accident?” I ask.
He takes a deep, slow breath. “She told us—Gid and I—that she loved us but couldn’t take it anymore. That she was so, so sorry.” His mouth twists into an ugly shape. “Those words are meaningless, aren’t they?” His eyes shut in self-disgust, like he’s remembering how many times he’s said those same words to me since I came back to Bayview.
Maria’s goodbye probably did more harm than good. If she’d died without professing her love and regret, maybe Gideon and Reed would have been able to convince themselves that her death was an accident. Instead, they were burdened with guilt that somehow they weren’t enough to keep her alive.
Maria was as bad as Callum, I realize. Just as selfish. Just as needy. Is it any surprise that her kids are flawed in the same way?
“I hated him for what he did to her. We all did. And then six months after she died, he started bringing Brooke around. I wanted to kill him for that. It was like he was spitting on Mom’s grave.”
I exhale shakily, wondering how Callum could be so stupid. Couldn’t he have waited a bit longer before parading his new girlfriend in front of his sons?
“They were together for about a year when Brooke started hitting on me,” Reed admits. “I was wrong. I know I was wrong. The really ironic part is that I was doing it to get back at my dad, but I could never bring myself to tell him.”
“Why did you sit there and not say anything that night?” I burst out. “Why did you let me think the worst?”
He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “I was ashamed. I knew I had to tell you about Brooke, and I was scared you’d hate me for it. Then she told me about being pregnant. I knew it couldn’t be mine, but I…froze. I couldn’t move. Literally. I tried but couldn’t. And then I got pissed, so pissed, at myself, at her, at you.”
I tense up. “At me?”
“Yeah, for being everything I wish I could be.” His voice thickens. “Look, Royals are known for their money, their looks, and that’s about it. We cave at the first sign of pressure. Dad’s business is about to go under, so he starts sleeping around. Mom starts over-medicating and then…dies. I—” he visibly swallows, “I was pissed at my dad, so I slept with his girlfriend.”
I grit my teeth but don’t say a word.
“I heard the door slam and it was like I was released from this prison. I went racing after you. I stayed up all night looking for you.”
But I was already gone, sitting on a bus, determined to get as far away from Bayview as possible.
“I’m sorry.” He takes my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth earlier.”
I release a shaky breath. “Reed?”
“Yeah?”
“I forgive you.”
His breath hitches. “You do?”
I nod.
Reed’s hand trembles as it cups my chin. “Thank you.”
His thumb rubs an arc across my cheekbone, swiping away a tear I hadn’t realized slipped out.
The emotion lining my throat makes it hard to get my next words out. “I want to forget—”
He kisses me before I can finish the sentence. Warm lips crash onto mine, and I instinctively wrap my arms around his strong shoulders, pulling him closer.