I dropped my head into my hands and rubbed my eyes, desperately trying to digest all that he’d just said to me. My own dad took off when I was ten years old and I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. When I was in high school, I often wondered how different my life would’ve been if he’d stuck around. Naturally, I wanted a better life for Lucy and Piper than I’d had and if that meant asking their biological father not to walk away, so be it.
“Kacie?” he questioned quietly after a minute.
My head snapped up to face him and I took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to go.”
He pulled his brows in tight and cocked his head to the side. “You don’t?”
“No. I don’t. I never imagined myself saying this, but we lost you once, Zach. I don’t want to lose you again. You’ve been through a lot and you’re right, you made some shitty decisions. But you’ve shown me more change in the weeks we’ve been in contact than in the whole three years we were together before.”
A shy smile spread across his face and he looked down, fidgeting with his phone.
“You were right about one thing, though,” I continued. “Romantically, there’s no chance for us. My heart belongs to Brody and it always will.”
“I understand.” He nodded.
“I’m going to try like hell to get things back on track with him, and in time we’ll see about introducing you to Lucy and Piper. Like I said a few weeks ago, though, my trust for you is pretty broken. It’s going to take a long time and a lot of work to fix. And no more drinking. Period. That’s a deal breaker.”
“As long as it takes. You’re in charge. And you have my word about the drinking. I’ll never touch the stuff again.” He smiled slowly as his shoulders relaxed.
Relief rolled across his posture and I was jealous. I could only feel that kind of relief with contact from one person right now, and he wanted nothing to do with me.
Diesel’s cold nose pressed against my cheek, waking me out of a sound sleep.
“Morning, buddy. You gotta piss?” I asked without opening my eyes.
I lifted the pillow and shoved my head under it, trying to block out the sunlight.
We got back really late the night before from our road trip and I came home and collapsed. My body and my brain were exhausted. I was playing like shit and thinking about Kacie nonstop, but I couldn’t bring myself to call her. Not yet.
She wasn’t the only one trying to reach me. My mom had called me so many times, I was surprised she hadn’t sent out a search party for me yet.
My phone rang again and I knew that I couldn’t ignore her much longer.
“Hello, Mom.” I said flatly as I answered.
“Brody! How are you?” She sounded relieved.
“Fine.”
“That’s good.” She tried hard to sound like everything was normal. “I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t been returning my calls.”
“I know.” I took a deep breath and held it for a second. “Listen, Mom. I owe you an apology for the way I stormed out the other night.”
“Stop right there. I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want you to say it. You don’t owe me any apologies.”
“Yes, I do,” I argued.
“No. There’s no handbook to life, Brody. No rules on how you’re supposed to handle situations,” she said softly. “You were given news that was upsetting and you reacted. You’re allowed to react. I didn’t expect you to be happy about our divorce.”
“I know, Mom, but I shouldn’t have flown off the handle the way I did.”
“It’s okay. Really,” she assured me.
“So, how are you with all this, Mom? Really?” I wanted to get her opinion on things without my dad sitting next to us.
She paused for a second and I was worried that I’d pissed her off. “I’m good, Brody.” She sounded perkier than I was prepared for. “I’m actually totally at peace with it. It’s for the best, it really is.”
“Seriously?” I exclaimed. “I just don’t get that. Thirty years, Mom.”
“I know how long I’ve been married. Things have just changed. It’s no one’s fault. We just have to learn to roll with the punches.”
She was sounding a little happier about her current situation than I would have been, though she had already known about this for a year. Apparently she’d adjusted well.
“Is Dad around?”
“Uh, yeah. I think he’s out in the workshop. Let me take him the phone.”
A few seconds later, I heard scratching on the phone—like someone was holding it against their shirt—muffled talking, and then my father’s gruff voice.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Son. How are you?”
“Pretty shitty. How are you?”
“Hanging in there.” He’d shown almost no emotion as far back as I could remember. I don’t know why I thought now would be different.
“I wanted to talk to you for a minute and tell you that I’m sorry for the way I left the other night. That whole conversation with you and Mom was a shock, but I shouldn’t have freaked out the way I did.” I took a deep breath and swallowed my pride. “I’m most sorry for accusing you of cheating on Mom and calling you a bad dad. It was reprehensible and I’m so sorry.”