Page 168 of Not Another Yesterday
But I have a sneaking suspicion the time has come. The road ahead is looking pretty damn empty. And there’s nowhere left to hide.
Sure enough.
“I am so sorry, Ronan,” my dad says into the silence.
I turn my head to look at him, not sure what he’s apologizing for. Everything, probably.Everything.But I don’t ask—I wouldn’t even know where to start. So, I wait.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t a dad to you and Stevie. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.” The words spill out like he’s been holding them in for years. “Sitting there yesterday, listening to Mark talk about what an amazing father Mac is, I realized how much I’ve failed you—and Stevie—but especially you. I shouldn’t have left you guys.”
“Dad, you did what you could,” I say, out of habit more than belief.
“No. Actually, I didn’t.” His voice goes stern. “Things could’ve been different if I’d been man enough to do what was right.”
He takes a deep breath, then exhales through his nose. “I left Morai and Athair just a few days after I turned sixteen.”
I nod. I’ve always known he left the ranch that young, though I never really understood why. Montana has always felt like a refuge to me.
So, I ask: “How come? Why’d you leave?”
He glances over, and there’s a heaviness behind his eyes that startles me. I recognize it—the same fractures I saw in Cat’s eyes the night I met her. The same darkness I see in my own reflection.
“I just… couldn’t stay,” he says. “I needed to leave. For me. And I swore I’d never step foot on Montana soil again.”
I don’t get the chance to press further.
“I grew up knowing I’d inherit the ranch. That I’d take over the family business. Until one day, I couldn’t bear the thought of it. Of staying. At sixteen, the only way out I saw was the military.”
I listen, more intently now. I’ve never heard this part.
“I knew I couldn’t enlist until I was seventeen. I knew that because the day I turned sixteen, I took Athair’s truck and drove to Missoula. Walked into a recruitment center and they told me they’d love to have me…next year.Man, I was pissed,” he says with a dry laugh. “So, I decided I’d leave anyway. Started working whatever jobs I could find, sleeping wherever I could crash. Sometimes there wasn’t even that.”
He shakes his head, like he’s watching it all play back in real time.
“I made my way to New York two weeks later. Met some people, crashed in their apartment for a bit. One weekend, we went to the beach—it was brutally hot—and that’s where I met Rica. It was her sixteenth birthday. She was in the city with some girlfriends. We started talking, hit it off, and… well, we kind of just snuck away from the group and—”
“Yeah, no need to share details, Dad,” I say, grimacing.
He chuckles. “I’ll spare you.” He sobers a little. “We exchanged numbers, but as shitty as it sounds, I had no intention of calling her. She was obviously a beautiful girl, but I wasn’t in that headspace.”
“Wherewasyour head?” I ask.
He grins. “I was sixteen, Ran. Living away from my parents in a big city. My mind was on parties and sex and all the dumb stuff you get caught up in when you think the world owes you something.”
“Shit. Sorry I asked.”
“Oh, please. I’ve heard you weren’t exactly a saint before Cat,” he says with a laugh.
“Okay, fair enough,” I say. “So… when did you find out about Stevie?”
“Your mom called me about three months later, out of the blue. Asked if she could see me. I thought we were gonna hook up again, but she showed up at the apartment and it was obvious that wasn’t why she came. She told me she was pregnant. God, Ran, I was such an asshole to her. I tried to deny it. Said it wasn’t mine. She was just bawling, swearing I was the only person she’d ever been with.”
He stares out the windshield.
“I took her virginity during a one-night stand. How fucking shitty is that.”
“Definitely shitty,” I say. It’s something I’ve always worried about—being someone’s first when I had no intention of sticking around. I remember how much it meant when Cat trusted me that way. How it changed us. Changedme. I wouldn’t want to do that to someone I’d just met, someone I’d never see again.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “She told me her dad kicked her out. She completely broke down. Told me her dad had been abusive. We stayed up all night talking, and I realized I needed to step up. But, Ran?” He looks at me again, eyes steady. “I’m going to be honest with you, so try not to judge me too hard: I hated it. The idea of being a dad. I felt trapped. I was sixteen. I didn’t love her. I didn’t want to raise a family. I wanted tolive.I wanted togo places.”
