Page 149 of Red River

My throat was so tight I could barely swallow. I lowered my gaze to the paper…

In the dim light, I recognized Thomas’s handwriting.

"Fuck!" I swore. I rarely did, trying to be a good parent, but this was just too much.

I sat on the bench, Phoenix on one shoulder so he could burp if needed, and in my other hand, the dreaded piece of paper.

My heart instantly started pounding twice as fast, my lungs tightening. The man I once loved so deeply… His last words to me? Should I be nervous?

So I started reading:

"My dearest River. My love. My heart. My angel.

Where do I even begin? How do I explain myself when I know that nothing will ever make me right in your eyes? I screwed up. I failed you. That’s obvious.

But who could blame me for falling in love with you? Who wouldn’t fall for an angel?

It started then.

Twenty-three years ago, I was driving, talking to Devon about how we had no choice but to declare the third company bankrupt. I finally found the courage to tell him, and he… exploded. Called me a loser, a nobody, the biggest mistake of his life. Said he was done—that he was filing for divorce.

I panicked. I fell apart. You know me—I get attached to one person, and that’s it. For life. There’s no middle ground, no breakups, no giving up.

In a moment of madness, completely out of my mind, I stepped on the gas. I have no idea if I wanted to kill us both or just scare him. All I know is that the speedometer hit 120 miles per hour on a local, bumpy road.

The next thing I remember was smoke… and out of it, the most beautiful face I could ever imagine.

I thought I had died. That I was in heaven. But the red-haired angel didn’t let me cross that final line. He pulled me out of the fire and smoke.

And just like that, you gave me a second life, River—one that, moments earlier, I had been so ready to throw away.

A second chance. But a terrible price was paid for my life, because Devon… Devon died. My stupidity and recklessness stole his life.

And yet, somehow, Fate gave me twenty extra years.

I should have died that day, River. Right then and there. I did die, in fact. And you brought me back to life.

To your own misfortune.

Because after that, I had become a burden—the weight that stole your youth, wiped the carefree, happy smile from your young face, filled those once-bright eyes with sadness and exhaustion.

I put the full weight of raising the kids on your shoulders. Forced you to keep my failing businesses afloat, one after another. Forced you to take care of the house, of everything. I became like a stone tied to a drowning man’s ankle, dragging you down into the abyss. I failed you in every possible way.

But that ends now, River.

A while ago, I spoke with a doctor. He said that in order to qualify for gastric surgery, I had to lose some weight first. I decided to do it. I saw what your life had become—your daily struggle, the constant stress, the way you were fading more and more each day. How I was draining the last of your energy, your youth, your very life. Leeching off you.

I hated myself for it. I despised myself. I knew you deserved better.

But the truth is, I could never give you more because I’m a talentless, terrible businessman.

What I really wanted to be was a dancer.

I never told you that, did I? My shameful secret. I danced as a kid, but my parents laughed at me. "A dancing alpha? That’s stupid." I bet you can’t even imagine me dancing—the fat, disgusting pig I’ve become.

But… it wasn’t always like this. Still, I had to follow the life path that was meant for alphas. And no matter how many companies I start, I’ll run them all into the ground.

I’m a loser. A nobody. Just like Devon said. I don’t know how to change. I don’t have it in me.

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