Page 95 of Someday Away

“Not long. But you know me—nervous flier—so I haven’t eaten since I left London this morning.” He eyes the sandwich with something akin to love, and I almost smile. “I’ve been dreaming about this ham sandwich since I landed a couple hours ago.” He takes a large bite with a half moan, half sigh.

“Jesus, Dad. Buy it a drink first,” I say sarcastically.

“Funny,” he says, looking back up at me.

“How was your trip? You look wrecked.”

“It was stressful. International investments are a whole different animal, and I have a lot to learn.”

“I’m glad you came back in time for Christmas.” I rub the back of my head awkwardly.

My dad’s expression softens. “I think I need to make up for some lost time, don’t you?”

I nod and swallow the lump in my throat.

“So, what’re you boys up to tonight?”

“Nothing really. Just going to stop by Trey’s house for a bit.” I scrub a hand through my hair. I don’t go into any more detail, and he just shrugs with a nod, used to my standoffish bullshit. Trey’s parents are never home, so we go there when we’re in Brighton for a little extra privacy. When we were younger, it was to get wasted or do drugs, but now it’s so we can fuck around with our girl in peace. Times change, I guess.

Planning on a late night, I walk over to the coffee machine and start a fresh pot before turning back to my dad. Even though our relationship has become tolerable over the last few months, it’s still not where it was before my mom left. I’m not sure it’ll ever get back there.

“Dad, I need to talk to you…about Mom.”

My heart thunders in my chest.Why am I so nervous?

His gaze meets mine, his brows raised in surprise. “I want to know how it happened. I want to know why you cheated with Ellen Conner.”

He puts down his sandwich and finishes chewing as he studies me. At first, I think he’s going to tell me no, but finally he clears his throat.

“Okay,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “As you’ve heard before, your mother and I were best friends from the time we were kids,” he starts, and I nod, remembering the stories they told me about how they were inseparable as children. “And it just made sense that after high school we’d get married. I loved her very much, and I still do despite everything, but we were neverin love—she didn’t complete me.”

I scoff. “Life isn’tJerry Maguire, Dad.”

“No,” he says firmly. “It’s not. But hear me out.” I nod that he should continue. “Our relationship was comfortable, but it was never passionate—no love story for the ages—as you just pointed out. But I was okay with that. Until I met Ellen. We resisted each other for a long time—years, actually. We both had families and obligations, not to mention Martin and I had done business together. When we finally did get together, it was my fault.”

He rests his head in his hands for a moment, and when he looks up again, his eyes are red and glassy. “I’m good at shutting out emotions until I’m not, and it takes something catastrophic to break my resolve. Ellen was that catastrophe, chipping away at my metaphorical walls until the day they just broke.”

That sounds familiar.

Charlie cracked my emotionless exterior as easily as you’d crack open a beer when no one else could even come close.

“We went about everything the wrong way because we were ashamed and scared. Instead of talking with your mom, I went behind her back. It’s no wonder she left the way she did. We used to tell each other everything, and I betrayed her trust spectacularly—unforgivably.” He blows out a shaky break. “I lost everything after that night. Your mother, you, Ellen…”

My dad’s face crumples, and for once, I see him. It’s the same paralyzing fear I have when I think about telling Charlie my truths. I could lose everything. But his words still twist my heart painfully.

“You didn’t have to lose me,” I say, frustration making my voice crack. “I was right here, Dad. And I needed you!”

“I know, kid. That was my fault. I shut down, especially after Ellen…” He takes a deep breath, not willing to bring up her fate. “I have no excuses, and you didn’t deserve that.” He stands, comes around the counter, and faces me. “You may look like me,” he says quietly, “but you have your mother’s eyes, and I justcouldn’t bear to see you day in and day out—not without seeing her—so I left. And I’m so sorry, Link.”

I stare at him, hot tears stinging the backs of my eyes. Then he hugs me. I stiffen at the unexpected contact, but then the little boy in me who just misses his parents takes over, and I relax, pressing my face into his shoulder with a choked sob.

My dad’s hand presses to the back of my head, and we stay like that for several minutes, both of us coming to terms with our long-repressed emotions. I finally pull back and look away, rubbing moisture from my face.

“Not that I mind having this long overdue conversation with you, Link. But why is this coming up now?”

I look down at my bare feet. “I made a mistake, and I think it’s going to hurt someone I…love.”

“Is this about Charlie?”

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