Page 27 of Hold Us Close
I stifle a yawn to answer him. “Yeah?”
“I love you. And I’m trying to be ready for this, trying to be the kind of man worthy of being a father. I’m sorry if I haven’t acted like it lately.” The apologetic regret weighs down his voice.
I lie back all the way and stare at the ceiling. “I love you, too. And I know you’re trying. It means a lot to me that you’re trying so hard.”
A muffled sound, almost like a sniffle or possibly static comes through the line.
“Landen?”
“Yeah,” he says, his voice rougher than before. “Yeah, I just…” Through our less than stellar connection I hear him sigh. “I just don’t want to be like him. God I don’t want to be anything like he was.”
The full weight of his words presses me down deeper into the mattress. “I know, baby. You won’t. You aren’t anything like him.”
“I’ve been acting just like him, Layla. I’ve been treating you like you dumped this kid on me instead of seeing it for the miracle it is. Instead of being grateful to have someone strong enough and capable of loving our baby for the both of us while I grew the hell up.”
Tears well in my eyes at his confession. He’s right, and it hurts to accept, but it’s true. “I know it’s a lot to deal with. I didn’t expect you to—”
“He isn’t my dad, Layla. The Colonel, he isn’t my biological father.”
If I weren’t already lying down, I’d fall over. “What? Landen, what are you—”
“My mom had an affair. I’ve been this constant reminder of her infidelity. Not to say that makes it okay, but…that’s what he told me the day everything went to shit. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”
I’m so surprised I don’t know what to say. He rushes on. “I’ve been trying to tell you every day since I found out but I…I just couldn’t…deal. And I didn’t want that to be another excuse for the way I am. It’s not one. It’s just something I have to accept and learn to handle. Like my anger issues.”
My arms ache to wrap around him. The urge to ease the pain I hear in his voice is visceral. “God, Landen. I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I were there. I wish I could hold you and kiss you and just…make it better somehow.”
“It’s okay. Honestly, I’m glad to know the truth. I feel like…like it makes some kind of sense now. But it’s still no excuse. I’m done making excuses and letting anyone else make excuses for me. I left you alone in this. I won’t do that again, angel. I promise.”
Nodding, even though he can’t see me, I wipe my tears away. “I know. I knew you would get there. Eventually.”
“Sorry, I took so long,” he says softly.
“You were worth the wait.”
Five weeks of the same routine is enough to make a manneedtherapy. Wake. Shower. Eat. Therapy. Exercise. Eat. Therapy. Read. Eat. Therapy. Sleep.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
Fuck me, I’m going insane.
And speaking of fucking, if I don’t get to see my girl soon, I might die. Seriously. I get to talk to her on the phone every night before bed, so that helps. Though it’s in a common room, and privacy is pretty much a foreign concept in this place.
But if I’m being completely honest? It was worth it. Coming here. Talking my shit out. For the first time in forever, I feel hopeful. I’m looking forward to getting back to Layla, back to Spain, and back to the team. Back to my life, which feels like it’s been suspended in limbo for five long weeks. It feels good to feel hopeful.
That is, I felt hopeful. Right up until my final evaluation with Dr. Sanderson.
“So, Landen. This is your last week here. How do you feel about that?” She leans back in her chair and eyes me passively. Like she couldn’t care less about my answer.
“Well, no offense, Doc, but I’m ready to get the hell out of here.”
A small smile teases at her lips. “That so?”
I shrug. “I mean, no disrespect or anything. It’s a nice place and I appreciate the fact that I’m not the only one with issues. I actually enjoyed group therapy a lot more than I thought I would. But yeah, I have a life to get back to.”
“Understood,” she says, leaning forward. “Let’s talk about that life for a moment.”
“Okay.” I fold my arms because I feel like I’ve done nothing but talk about my life for the past thirty-five days. What the hell else is there to say?
