Page 132 of Sweet Wicked Vows

He said nothing for several seconds before finally looking at me. “I’m no saint Jaxon, I know that. I’ve done a lot of wrong in my life.”

“No shit.”

“I realize I haven’t been the perfect father.”

“Wonder what possibly could have given you that idea.”

“Your childhood, all of your childhoods, I wasn’t present.” He swallowed thickly. “Yourmamanshe was the love of my life. It’s a beautiful thing finding someone who your heart only beats for, isn’t it?”

Beautifully agonizing.

“Now imagine losing that,” he said quietly. “Imagine the one person who made the sun shine brighter, the one person who brought color to your grayscale life, the person who made living worth it. Imagine you lost them, and it was entirely your fault.”

My knees threatened to buckle. Each word was a gunshot to the chest, straight into the void that bloomed to life the day Evelyn walked away.

“I should have done more for you boys,” he said. “But the griefwas too much to bear. It should have been me who died that day, not her. Only for you and your brothers, and the fact I know she would have wanted me to stay with you all is the reason I haven’t joined her soul.”

The air stretched taunt, making each breath heavier, strained.

“Then why now?” I said. “You’ve spent years dulling the pain with alcohol and acting like we didn’t exist.”

He winced.

“So, why the sudden change?”

He cleared his throat. “Because I’ve gotten help. I go to meetings twice a week, and there’s always someone I can turn to if I feel myself slipping.” His knee bounced nervously. “I’ve been sober since Christmas, working through my steps at my own pace. I’ve reached the point where I need to make amends.”

“Is this what this is? Are you trying to make amends?”

He nodded. “I want to make things right. You boys deserve that.”

I bit back the poison, ready to spit. Years, it’s been fucking years, that we sat back and watched him drink himself near death. He stopped being a father to us the daymamandied, and now he wanted to make amends?

I needed to leave before I said something I regretted.

I understood, more than ever, what it felt like trying to claw back from the shitty decisions that hurt those around us.

My mistakes, however, only calculated to a year, not twenty-six.

My fists curled at my side as I turned to walk away.

“Jaxon,” my father called after me. “Your wife, Evelyn. I never got the chance to tell you but the way you looked at her, it’s exactly how I saw yourmaman.Don’t let something that good, that precious and pure, slip away from you. You’ll only spend the rest of your life hating yourself.”

Waves crashed against my bare ankles.

Two weeks had passed sinceGrand-mèrecame home.

Tensions were at an all-time high right up to the moment she was back where she belonged.

Her presence in the house instantly soothed everything.

Between sorting out a live-in carer and doing whatever I could to help, my visit to the beach was the first and only chance I got for some peace.

Peace from listening to four other voices always giving their opinions.

Peace from the constant claustrophobia of sharing a space once again with my brothers.

And peace from the plaguing thoughts that Evelyn was moving on with her life without me.

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