Page 35 of The Promises We Broke
"You've been watching me for eleven years?"
"Making sure you were safe. Making sure you had options. It was the only way I knew how to love you from a distance."
He handed me the envelope. "Your grandfather's inheritance. It's been sitting in trust since you turned eighteen. Regina fought to have it dissolved, claimed you'd abandoned your family and forfeited any right to Farrington money. I've been fighting her on it for eleven years."
I stared at the envelope, afraid to open it. My grandfather had been the one adult in our family who'd shown unconditional love, who'd made the ranch a sanctuary for all of us kids.
"How much?" I asked quietly.
"Enough to buy a house. Start a business. Build whatever kind of life you want here in Willowbrook, if that's what you choose. Not that you need it. I don't think I've ever seen a person capable of living as frugally as the life you've been punishing yourself with."
My hands shook as I opened the envelope, scanning the legal documents that transferred a sum of money that would have taken me another decade to save. Not just enough for a house, but enough for independence, for choices, for the kind of security I'd never dreamed possible.
"Why now?" I asked.
"Because Regina can't contest it anymore. Because the divorce is final and her influence over family assets is gone." Jasper'sexpression softened. "And because Barrett's birth made me realize how much time I've already lost with my sons. I don't want to lose any more."
I looked up at him, seeing something in his face I'd never noticed before. Regret, yes, but also hope. Like maybe it wasn't too late to salvage something from the wreckage of our relationship.
"I don't know how to forgive you," I said honestly. "I don't know how to trust that you've really changed, that you won't just enable the next version of Regina who comes along."
"I don't expect forgiveness to be freely given," Jasper said quietly. "I expect to earn it. Day by day, choice by choice, for however long it takes."
The simple acknowledgment that trust would have to be rebuilt instead of assumed made something ease in my chest. This wasn't a demand for instant reconciliation. This was an offer to do the work.
"I'm staying," I said finally. "In Willowbrook. Permanently."
"Good. This town needs people who understand what it means to fight for the people you love."
"I don't know what I'd do here. For work, I mean."
"You're a master craftsman, Gage. I've seen your work. You could start a construction company, take on renovation projects. With this inheritance, you could be selective about your jobs, take on projects you actually care about."
The idea settled in my mind like a seed finding fertile ground. Building things instead of constantly moving. Creating something permanent instead of running from everything meaningful.
"There's a property that went up for sale last week," he said, the words coming out before I'd fully processed the decision. "I think you're familiar with it. The old house by the swimminghole. That place has been empty for years. Needs extensive work."
"Really? No one's interested in it? It's a beautiful house."
"It used to be, and with the right work it could be again. It's a big project and we're a small town. I think that's all that's put people off. Only a matter of time before someone looks at it and sees the potential."
He looked at me carefully and I nodded slowly.
This was it. This was what I needed to do while I decided the direction my life was going in. A purpose, a project.
An apology that up until now I hadn't known how to give.
I wasn't ready to explain why that particular house mattered, why the idea of restoring it felt like the most important project I'd ever considered. But Jasper seemed to understand that some decisions didn't need immediate explanation. He clearly knew me better than I realized to even suggest it.
"If you're serious about this, about staying and building something here, I'd like to help," he said carefully. "Not to control or influence your choices, but to support them. To be the father I should have been all along."
I studied his face, looking for signs of manipulation or hidden agenda. But all I saw was a man who looked tired and genuinely remorseful, someone who wanted to make amends for failures that couldn't be undone.
"It won't be easy," I said. "Trusting you. Believing you've really changed."
"I know. But Gage, I've already lost eleven years with you. I don't want to lose any more."
The vulnerability in his voice reminded me of something. The way Trace and Delaney had looked at me when they'd offered forgiveness. The way my brothers had welcomed me home despite everything. Forgiveness wasn't about what people deserved. It was about what they needed to heal.
