Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
I heard a short, quiet, choked sound escape him as he hugged me back.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tightened my hold on him further.
“I don’t have my life together like you do,” he croaked.
Jesus Christ, he had my voice too.
“I don’t care.” I sniffled and refused to let go of him. “I don’t fucking care, Finn.”
He sniffled too and dropped his forehead to my shoulder. “Did you know that she’s dead?”
I stiffened for a second. Our mother was dead…
Relief pummeled through me and caused a fresh round of emotions to well up.
“When?”
“Few years ago.”
“Not a moment too soon, then.”
He exhaled unsteadily. “No.”
After a while, I eased up a little so I could look him in the eye. The sight of him made my heart beat faster. I couldn’t describe how good it felt.
He wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. “They tracked me down when she died. Asked if I wanted to attend the burial. I fucking hung up on them.”
“I would’ve done the same.”
Maybe I’d made myself clear enough when I’d visited that I didn’t want anything to do with her, because it wouldn’t have been difficult to track me down either.
He nodded slowly and glanced over at my house. “I think someone’s watching us.”
My mouth twitched. I didn’t need to follow his stare to see who it was. “Elise—my wife. You’ll like her.”
He swallowed and dropped his gaze to the ground. “I saw your wedding photos on Facebook last year. And your house when you moved in. And your daughter. And the announcement when your wife adopted your girl. And two vacations. Oh, and when your wife opened her shops.”
So, he’d lurked in the background for a while. It made sense with what I knew of him. Of the person he’d once been. Careful, cautious, curious.
“I don’t think I’ll fit in anywhere in your family, Ave.”
I cocked my head and stuck my hands down in the pockets of my jeans. “There was a place for me in what I call family today back when I had nothing to show for myself. When I was at my worst. Hating my job, going through a divorce, ready to pull the trigger on myself.”
His gaze snapped up at that. “You tried to kill yourself?”
I half shrugged. “With a gun, there’s no try. I chickened out every time.”
He winced. “I tried to hang myself once.”
I clenched my jaw, and he became blurry as my eyes filled with unshed tears.
I could’ve lost him long before I ever got him back in my life. And he had to be back. He belonged with me.
“When?” I had to clear my throat.
“I don’t know—five or six years ago. I was a junkie. Complete screw-up.”
Jesus. We had a lot to talk about.
“I’m clean now, though,” he said, uncertainty in his tone. “I wouldn’t barge into your life, otherwise. I haven’t had anything stronger than coffee and beer in years.”
I furrowed my brow and watched him fidget nervously, and he retrieved a pack of smokes from his back pocket and lit one up.
“Finn, you don’t have to earn a spot in my life. I’ve missed you for as long as we’ve been separated, and if you think for a fucking second that you can only be around us once you’ve…I don’t even know, proven yourself worthy, you’re out of your damn mind.”
He flashed a quick, tentative grin and took a drag from his smoke. “Okay. If you say so.”
I frowned. “You don’t believe me?”
He shook his head quickly. “It’s not that. Let’s just… Let’s swap life stories before you decide anything, okay? A lot of people don’t wanna get dragged down by my baggage.”
And I’d thought my abandonment issues were bad.
Fair enough. I’d show him.
“Where do you live now?” I asked.
“Here in town. In the Valley.” That made me ridiculously pleased to hear. “Once she was dead, I started coming up here some weekends,” he continued. “I wanted to replace old memories and see if I could find the balls to reconnect with you.”
“I’m glad you did.” I smiled faintly. “It’s good that you live close by too. Means I’ll force you to come over for dinner often.” I paused and thought about the cooking he’d experience… “I won’t have to force you for long. Elise’s cooking is addictive.”
He turned pensive. “You love her for real, don’t you?”
I understood the question only because it came from him. He’d see one day. I’d make sure of it.
“She’s the light of my life and all the clichéd superlatives I didn’t believe in for a long time,” I replied. “I wouldn’t be the man I am today without her and Grace.”
He nodded once. “I guess that’s good. A good feeling.”
I could tell that he wasn’t able to relate at all. And before my friendship with Pipsqueak morphed into much more, I hadn’t been able to relate either.