Page 75 of Bet on It

“You didn’t mention your dad before.…” Corey said the words quietly, as if they were the only two in the room.

Walker threw his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. The pressure at the base of his skull and his temples was starting to make his head throb.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he whispered.

“You know that’s OK, right?” Jamie asked. “To not know what to say. Like, it’s OK to not have all the answers, man.”

“Not for me it ain’t.”

“Sure it is,” Jamie pushed. “And your dad probably knows that too. Look, I’ve never met the man. Don’t know a whole lot about him, but it’s obvious that as hard as it is, you love him. I know that doesn’t always count for a whole hell of a lot, but maybe this time it does. Maybe he’s not looking for you to have all the answers or make all the decisions. Maybe he just wants to talk to you, Walker. To see where you’re at and how you’re feeling about everything.”

“It’s hard for me to trust people when my emotions are on the line,” Walker said. “And that’s his fault. So much of what’s wrong with me is because of what I went through with him. And tryin’ to trust him after all that is… it’s hard.”

“Then don’t trust him.” Corey said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. “You don’t need to trust him yet, not until he earns it. Just… talk to him. I wouldn’t even tell you to if it wasn’t clear that not doing it is eating you up inside. Talk to him, Walker. Suss him out for yourself and go from there. You don’t have to decide the entire fate of your relationship with your dad right now.”

Hearing that come out of his best friend’s mouth made it seem easy. Obvious, even. Just talk to him.…

Could he do that? Just have a conversation with his dad without feeling the pressure to have every single thing figured out? Maybe… he didn’t know for sure. But the thought lessened the constriction that had kept his chest in a state of discomfort for weeks.

Jesus Christ. Was this what friends were for? Getting you out of your own head just enough to make decisions that would un-fuck your life?

“You should talk to her too,” Adya said after a while. “The woman you love.”

He cut his eyes to her, his brain having a hard time keeping up with the switch between two very emotional, very different topics.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, like she was scared her words might make his head explode. “You could make it work if you tried. If you really love her, you’d at least try. How are you going to feel in ten years if you let this slip by you without even making a real effort to hold on to it?”

“I don’t know.…” He blew out a breath. “I feel like that one might be too far gone.”

She shook her head. “It might be my love of romance novels talking, but I don’t believe that. It’s never too far gone to try if you really believe in it. If you actually want it.”

“I do.” His words were forceful because he meant them.

“Tell her that then, asshole. Tell her all the shit that’s been running around in your head since you left her. And make sure you’re ready for whatever the outcome may be and let her choose whether she thinks you’re too far gone.”

As much as he hated to admit it, his friends were right. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life like this. Miserable and aching and full of regret. Even if Aja didn’t want to forgive him or be with him and his father turned out to be a disappointment, he needed to know. Both scenarios would hurt like hell no matter what. But sitting around doing nothing was even worse. At least this way, he could rid himself of the anxiety that came with the unknown.

He groaned. His tongue thickened at the possibility of countless words. He had no fucking idea what he was going to say to either of them. The words jumbled up in his head and he had no clue what order to put them in. He supposed he’d figure it out.… He always did.

He wanted to tell his friends not to hold their breath, but he held his tongue. “Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll drag my ass back to Greenbelt and talk to them. But if this shit turns out bad, I’m puttin’ all the blame on y’all.” He rubbed a hand over his belly. “Now, can I get some of that spinach dip I came for or do I have to sit through another lecture first?”

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