Page 27 of Savannah Sweethearts

“Dad is just looking out for you. He doesn’t want to see you end up with the wrong person.” Tanner’s defense of our father wasn’t a surprise.

The snort that came through my nose, however, was a surprise. “The wrong person? You mean, the only guy I’ve ever loved? The only one who doesn’t care that I can’t have children? The man who has done nothing but protect me? Dad is only trying to keep me away from Tyrell because he comes from the wrong family.”

“Dad loves you. This is his way of showing it.”

Now I did sit up. “That’s not love. He’s using money to control us, Tanner. You and me both. That monthly allowance you get? It controls you. You do what Dad says to do, and he gives you ten grand a month. See what happens if you stop following his orders.”

The voice on the other end became hardened. “Doesn’t he give you that money every month as well?”

“I donate it or invest it. I don’t use it.”

“You still accept it.”

“No more. I’ll close out that account tomorrow. I’m done being Dad’s pawn.” I huffed. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I can’t do it. I cannot be around someone who would control me like this. I’m just mad at myself for not seeing it until now.” More tears came. “I love you. And you know I adore Jonny. But I have to choose myself.”

A deep sigh came through the phone. “I know. You’re braver than I am. I have a lot to think about, but we’ll talk again soon, okay?”

“Okay.” I threw the phone down and fell back onto my pillow.

Tyrell

After two days, the recording still sat in my desk at work. It was also backed up at my mom’s house, just in case. I could air it anytime. Our new reporter would probably love to do an exposé on Jonathan Gloss, especially since she had just been sent out to get a story on invasive vines.

As the weekend began, my thoughts turned back to my own family issues. Living with my mother again was not as much fun without the girls to be a buffer. I adored my mom, but I was a grown man, not a teenager who needed to be tended—especially by a woman who could barely move around her house.

Not only was I working full time, but I was also trying to maintain two households, get reacquainted with Ashley, get my mom to appointments, and still trying to get in touch with the mother of my children. It was Friday, and she still hadn’t shown back up in Savannah.

Going for a run seemed like a good way to get out of the house and think through everything going on. I popped earbuds in and took off from Mom’s house, thinking I could run the two miles to my own house, then back again.

I needed to solve the easiest problem first—dating Ashley. Well, there was no problem there. She was perfection. Okay, maybe not perfection, but she was close. We saw each other a few times a week, not counting when I took the girls to school, and the girls were getting to know her, too. Nope, no problems there.

Next, my mom. She was adjusting to the crutches and was hobbling okay. She had five more weeks with the cast, and I didn’t think I could live with her for that long. Maybe I could just stop by after work and help her make dinner and pop in a load of laundry if she needed it. The girls and I could stay on weekends and clean the house. Maybe I could sweet-talk Ashley into going by as well to check on her.

That left Sabra and Ashley’s father. There wasn’t much I could do about either one of them with a quick turnout. But what could I do? I could support Ashley however she needed it. I could keep or destroy the recording of my confrontation with Mr. Gloss – keeping it hidden away seemed the best course of inaction. As far as Sabra went, I had spoken to an attorney who said I had a great case against her, but then we were at the mercy of the courts and their timeline, which could drag on for months. I needed to actually talk to her before anything else happened.

I stopped on a corner, winded. Sweat dripped down my neck and my back, and I was beginning to get a stitch in my side. Running used to be one of my favorite things. Soccer had been my life in high school and college. But since then? Not so much. I didn’t have the time to devote to my physique, nor did I care that much. I had a dad bod, and I was a dad; it hadn't bothered me in the last several years. The run that would have been easy as pie five years before was now a struggle. By the time I got to my own house, I was drenched in sweat, and I feared my legs were permanently damaged.

I struggled to open the lock and went straight for the kitchen, where I downed the entire pitcher of water. Then I collapsed on the couch and laid there, panting. My phone dinged, and I struggled to hold it up.

Ashley: Whatcha doing?

I had to use voice-to-text to answer. I couldn’t lift my other hand to type.

Tyrell: Trying not to die. I ran from Momma’s house to my house.

The phone rang then. I answered with a weak grunt.

“Why did you run from Gigi’s house to your house?” Ashley couldn’t decide if she was concerned or amused because her tone changed halfway through the question.

The fact that she had taken to calling my mom Gigi always made my heart jump. I didn’t know why. But the last thing I needed right then was for my heart to start acting up again. I was still trying to get it to beat normally.

“I needed to clear my head, and I thought a run might help.”

“Did it?” She giggled this time.

“Absolutely not.” I gasped for effect. “I can see the light. You better say your goodbyes.”

This time, she burst into laughter. “Oh, no. You cannot die on me, Mr. Harris. I just found you again. I will not give you up this easily. How are you getting home?”

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