Page 7 of Resilient Rhythms
Anger floods through me, fast and furious.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Dad holds up a hand. “If I could go back in time now, if I could do things differently, I would.”
I shake my head, tamping down my anger. In fact, I focus on removing my emotions from the equation. I need to listen to Dad’s story with a clear head. An open mind that can dissect the information from all angles. “What happened?”
“Isabel and I broke up when my time in Texas ended,” Dad says.
“You broke up with her?” My indignation floods back. So much for logical processing.
“No. Never.”
I lift my eyebrows, waiting for him to offer a real explanation.
“Isabel was wise beyond her years. She knew that with the distance between us…well, I wanted to make it work. I wanted to send for her, marry her, take her back to Boston with me. She couldn’t leave her family. Not then, at least. I swore that I would wait. I had no idea that the situation in the Burton home was also becoming…impossible…for her.”
I close my eyes, reading between the lines.
“I didn’t know the full extent of it, of anything, until it was too late,” Dad rushes to say. “I went back to Boston, heartbroken, believing that she didn’t want to be with me anymore. I threw myself into my last year of college and then, into starting up mybusiness. Years went by and then, through a Texas colleague, I learned the truth. Bran’s father, a married man with a family, had an affair with his father’s housekeeper, Isabel. Was it truly an affair? Was he hurting her?” Dad pales and takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Mckenna. But knowing Isabel the way I did, I would stake my life on the latter. When she became pregnant, he shipped her off to Massachusetts and paid her to keep quiet. He set her up with a whole new life, cleaning for a family friend’s home outside of Boston. At the time, the Burton family was expanding their political influence and Bran’s grandfather didn’t want the scandal to tarnish the family’s reputation.”
“But they’re all guilty!” I seethe.
“They are,” Dad agrees. “Isabel gave birth to a baby boy.”
“Bran,” I spit, choking on his name.
Dad nods. “Isabel raised him until she passed from breast cancer when Bran was fifteen. At that point, Bran’s father was divorced and his time for political prowess had passed. He became Bran’s legal guardian, enrolled him in a prestigious boarding school here in Massachusetts, and tried to teach him the ropes of the family business.”
“Sexual assault and intimidation,” I mouth off.
Dad sucks in a breath. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“I can’t believe this,” I murmur. “Bran’s mom was your…the love of your life?”
Dad nods again. “Trust me, I couldn’t believe it either. If you knew Isabel…I can’t imagine.” He trails off and shakes his head. “It makes me sick to think about what her son did to you. But it was personal, Mckenna. I didn’t put the pieces together until it was too late and I’m so fucking sorry, Kenny. I’m sorry for not protecting you the way I should have.”
“Dad,” my voice cracks as I reach across the pastries for his hand.
He clasps both of mine in his and stares at me with agony blazing in his eyes. “I made the first connection when Mav and I were researching. We were poring over all the details his contact had gathered and her name jumped out at me. But I still wasn’t sure. I didn’t have all the information. Everything went to shit shortly afterwards.” Dad tosses out a hand to encompass the past few months of my life.
“Mav’s bender,” I say.
Dad nods. “You were heartbroken. Trying to heal. And then, the divorce, final exams…there wasn’t a good time to tell you. This still isn’t,” he admits, looking around my kitchen. “You have to start your bar exam prep.”
“I know. But I’m glad you told me. Even if it’s going to take me days to wrap my mind around it. Bran’smother.”
Dad sighs. “You need to know the truth because, Mckenna, I don’t know what Bran is capable of. No one does. And his attack on you, the mental manipulation, the years of trauma…it’s all personal.”
I shiver from Dad’s words. From the implication behind them. “But Bran’s in Texas now.”
“Yes,” Dad agrees, his expression still lined with concern. “Right now, he is. But we don’t know what the future holds, and I want you to have all the details. All the information I have.”
“I get it,” I breathe out, equal parts hating my father’s words for causing me another mountain of worry and relieved that I finally understand part of Bran’s motive. I used to question why he took such great pleasure in torturing me. At least now, I think I understand why Bran singled me out—to get back at my father. To hurt him for hurting Isabel. It doesn’t make it right, but it does provide a sliver of closure I had no clue I was searching for until this moment. “Thanks for telling me.”
Dad nods and swipes an entire éclair, taking a giant bite. He chews quietly, thoughtfully, for a long moment. “I really had no idea,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then, his eyes cut to mine. “I searched for Isabel.” He snorts and shakes his head. “It was actually right before you were born. Your mother and I were already married and yet, I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to her. Was she married? Did she have children? Where did she live? I didn’t dig too deep, obviously, because I didn’t find any information on her. And she was right here, practically down the road,” he admits, his eyes widening from the irony. “But then again,” he sighs, looking older than his years, “maybe I didn’t want the truth either. Maybe deep down, I knew it was better to keep that chapter closed.”
“Maybe,” I murmur, understanding him more than I would have thought possible.
Haven’t I done the exact same thing with Maverick? Deep down, didn’t I know things were amiss? Why couldn’t I handle the full truth? Why didn’t I see the pain he was drowning in?
