Chapter 25

25

A fter Jayda left , Brock pulled an all-nighter.

The only way he could cope with the numbness making him ache all over was to focus on coding. But even the familiarity of numbers dancing across the computer screen couldn’t soothe him.

Iciness flooded his body, making his teeth chatter at the oddest of moments, as if he’d developed some kind of tremor. Logic demanded it had to be shock but he didn’t feel like acknowledging logic right now.

There’d been nothing logical about the callous way he’d deliberately driven Jayda away, implying she was only interested in him for his money. Laughable, but he’d been desperate, flinging whatever insults he could to get her to leave.

He couldn’t stand her honesty, the way she stood in front of him and talked about taking risks. He was the last person she should take a risk on so he’d deliberately acted like an asshole and his plan to make a clean break had worked.

But at what cost? He’d hurt the one woman he’d ever really cared about—discounting his mum—and it made him sick to his stomach. Yet she could never understand. If he hadn’t been able to save his mum from the hardship of growing up with an emotionally stunted man, how could he hope to save her?

He couldn’t put Jayda through that. He couldn’t enter a relationship willingly, knowing that he was more like his dad than he cared to admit. He’d seen the similarities along the way—not being able to communicate with women properly, the impatience with their endless prattle, his inability to express affection—but had ignored the signs.

It was why he shunned relationships, because he never wanted to put any woman through what he’d witnessed his father putting his mother through.

Throw in the similarities he’d noticed recently and it had him in a tailspin. No matter how much he cared for Jayda, he wasn’t built for a long-term relationship. She might be strong and confident and willing to take risks but he couldn’t gamble with her heart, not when his own had been fortified for so long.

He would end up breaking both.

As for his parents, he hated how Duke and Pat had been so intuitive to see past the tension and the moods to a strong marriage and he hadn’t. It also annoyed the hell out of him that it had taken him so long to notice the positive changes.

Brock never doubted himself when it came to work but with his folks… he’d screwed up, big time.

He picked up his phone, scowled, and put it down again. He pushed back from his desk and prowled around his apartment, trying to avoid looking at all the places Jayda had been. A futile, impossible task because everywhere he looked he could see her. On his sofa that first night, staring at him as if she wanted to devour him whole. In his kitchen, wearing his T-shirt and little else. Up against the wall near the elevator, wanton and willing…

‘Fuck,’ he muttered, snatching up the phone before he could change his mind.

If he didn’t sort through the issues with his folks, he had no hope of giving Jayda the apology she deserved. They could never be a couple, not in the way she wanted, but he owed her that much.

Deliberately insulting her to drive her away had been the coward’s way out. She deserved better. And while he might not be able to reveal the whole truth about his relationship phobia, he could give her a polite, platonic goodbye that wouldn’t leave her hurt and him looking like an asshole.

Yeah, a clean, concise break-up. Much better.

But first he had to visit his folks.

‘Thanks for meeting me here.’ Brock gave his mother a hug outside George’s hospital room.

‘Your text sounded urgent?’ She scanned his face, worry clouding her eyes. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Yeah.’

The lie tripped from his lips the same way it had every time she’d asked him the same question as a kid. When his dad had reneged on a promised visit to a skate park. When his dad had yelled at him for snaffling the last shortbread cookie. When his dad had given him a cuff over the ear after he accidentally scratched a used car with a dirty sponge while washing it.

He’d hated lying to his mum but he’d seen how worn out she’d looked, as if the slightest thing would drive her away, and that was why he ultimately held his tongue and bottled up his unhappiness: for fear she would leave and he’d be left alone with him .

‘How was the awards night?’

‘Fine.’ His snapped response sounded anything but.

‘You look serious.’ She reached up and smoothed the frown line between his brows. ‘Did something happen between you and Jayda? She’s lovely, by the way—’

‘Let’s go talk to Dad,’ he said, pushing open the door and waiting until she entered before following.

George’s eyes lit up. ‘My two favourite people.’

Brock snorted, the sound not lost on either of his parents as their gazes fixed on him.

‘What’s wrong, Son, did something happen—?’

‘Cut the crap, Dad. You’ve never been interested in anything I do, so please don’t patronise me by showing concern now.’

‘Brock.’ His mum whacked him on the arm as if he were a five-year-old needing admonishment for being rude.

Some of the light in George’s eyes faded. ‘You’ve obviously got some bug biting your ass, so let’s hear it.’

Hating what he had to do, Brock backed away to the farthest corner opposite his dad’s bed and waited until his mum had perched on the bed before speaking.

‘Why are you still married when for years you couldn’t stand each other?’

George’s eyes widened, Bette’s jaw dropped, and the most startling, they reached for each other’s hands at the same time.

‘I mean, you hated each other when I was growing up. You constantly argued or sniped.’ He stabbed a finger in his dad’s direction. ‘You put Mum down every chance you got and you hurt her!’

His voice rose and he lowered it with effort. ‘And, Mum, I know you only put up with his shit because of me, but why the hell did you stay after I grew up and left?’

Remorse twanged his conscience as he took in their stunned expressions. He hated confronting them like this but he needed to in order to purge years of pent-up resentment that they’d created this injured version of him, an emotional recluse.

‘Then to hear people at the awards night admit they saw all that bad stuff between you yet wax lyrical about your marriage…’ He shook his head, sadness tightening his throat. ‘It made me question everything I ever believed and lived through and tolerated in a house I never considered home—’

‘That’s enough,’ George said, his tone low and lethal. ‘You have no bloody right to question our marriage, none whatsoever. So you can shove your opinions up your ass—’

‘George, stop.’ Bette squeezed his hand and Brock couldn’t believe when his father actually listened, clamping his lips shut in a thin line. ‘There’s a reason you’ve brought this all up now, isn’t there, Brock?’

Great, now he’d have to give them a snippet of his personal life if he ever wanted to get the answers he craved.

‘I loathe commitment, okay? I hated growing up knowing you only got married because of me and stayed stuck in a bad marriage because of me too.’ He thumped his chest hard, mortified when tears burned his eyes. ‘I never, ever, want to be in a relationship like yours and I don’t understand why you tolerated it—’

‘Because he’s my best friend and I love him,’ Bette said, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. ‘We got married too young. I’ll give you that. Late teens isn’t a good time to pledge your life to someone else. But you’re right. You were on the way and I wanted stability for you.’

She glanced at George, who shot her a lopsided smile. ‘Your father didn’t have to marry me. His mates back then were planning a trip around Australia on their motorbikes, taking a gap year. But your father wanted to do the right thing and provide you with a family.’

Brock wanted to yell, ‘What kind of a family features the parents hating each other’s guts while not giving their kid enough attention?’

‘Yes, we fought. It’s what most couples do as the years pass. But we were financially connected by the car yard so we decided to stick it out.’ Sadness shadowed her eyes and she gave a slight shake of her head. ‘You’re right. We were both miserable and we took it out on you.’ Her lower lip wobbled before she straightened. ‘And we apologise for that.’

He bit back his first response, ‘Too little too late’ and waited for her to continue. Though he should’ve known that his mum stuck around for financial reasons. It would’ve had to be something big.

‘Yeah, our marriage was shitty and you shouldn’t have borne the brunt of it.’ She squeezed his dad’s hand again. ‘We discussed separating many times…’ She trailed off and blinked back more tears. ‘But we’re older now, and when you left we had a blunt discussion about whether to walk away or stay married.’

A small smile played about her mouth. ‘Your father’s still a pain in the ass most of the time but he’s making an effort and that’s what I asked of him when I decided to stay.’

She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘I’m not perfect either. I’ve been way too subservient over the years and I’ve grown a backbone recently and I like it.’

She cast a quick fond look at his dad. ‘Our marriage may not be idyllic but it’s ours and we’re making a go of it.’

Brock remained mute, trying to absorb his mum’s revelations and still confused as to why she stayed.

‘I know I’m a grumpy prick. Always have been. I have no patience and I don’t tolerate many people. But your mother…’ George touched her cheek with his free hand, his obvious affection shocking Brock as much as the gesture. ‘I can’t imagine life without her, so when she gave me a good kick up the ass by telling me she’d leave around the time you did, well, let’s just say I made a decision to change things.’

George struggled into a sitting position and slipped an arm around her waist. ‘I never had a mother. She shot through when I was a toddler so I was raised by a tyrant.’ He shrugged. ‘I know it’s not an excuse but I guess I never learned how to love a woman properly or treat a kid right.’

A sliver of pity for his father wormed its way into Brock’s heart. He understood, because he too had learned by observation growing up: that loving meant hurt and marriage wasn’t for him.

‘Your mother threatening to leave helped me to see what I’d be missing out on if she did, so I’ve tried to be a better man since.’ George’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘We go out every weekend. Walks along the Yarra, brunches by the bay, couple stuff.’

‘And we have date nights,’ Bette said, her eyes sparkling through the tears. ‘Your father takes me to the pub for a meal once a week and nothing, not even watching footy in his mate’s man cave, can make him cancel.’

Stunned, Brock shook his head. ‘I had no idea.’

‘That’s because you’re rarely around.’

Brock heard the censure in his dad’s tone and it shamed him. He had stayed away because he couldn’t stand being around the two of them and their bickering. But were his memories of the past tainting the present? When was the last time he actually saw them have a big argument?

In reality, he hadn’t spent much time with them the last few years to know if what they said was true. But he had been surprised by their closeness recently and put it down to his dad sucking up to Bette while he was incapacitated. Add in the glowing testimony of Duke and Pat…it looked as if he’d read their situation all wrong.

‘We’re sorry for screwing you up, Son. You witnessed a lot of shit growing up that you probably shouldn’t and that’s tainted you.’

Bette snapped her fingers. ‘This is about Jayda, isn’t it? She wants a commitment and you don’t because you’re scared you’ll end up like us?’

Brock winced and ran a hand over his face. ‘Something like that.’

George shook his head. ‘She seems like a lovely girl so don’t screw it up with her.’

Too late, he already had, but hearing the truth from his parents about their relationship had given him insight in a way he’d never expected.

He’d been foolish, allowing his childhood memories to taint the way he viewed commitment. Not that they’d changed his mind about marriage; he’d seen too many of his friends’ marriages go the same route as his parents’ in the early days, with snide put-downs followed by frosty silences. He doubted he’d ever change his mind about living with someone and having them in his face twenty-four-seven but avoiding any kind of relationship because of the past was idiotic.

‘Marriage can be tough, Brock, but it can also be wonderful, having someone who has your back.’ Bette rested her head against George’s shoulder. ‘And no matter what you think about our marriage, the pros have eventually outweighed the cons.’

‘Hear, hear,’ his father said, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

‘That’s my cue to leave.’ Brock opened the door, relief warring with foolishness as he struggled to find the right words to tell his parents that while he didn’t get it and probably never would, he admired them for sticking it out when most wouldn’t. ‘For what it’s worth, it takes a lot of courage and determination to stay when the going gets tough and I’m glad you’re both in a better place now.’

‘Don’t be a stranger, kid,’ George said, sounding gruff.

His mum added, ‘We’d love to see you more often.’

Brock didn’t want to make any promises he couldn’t keep so he half nodded before closing the door.

That confrontation had been painful but cathartic.

He had a feeling apologising to Jayda would be a hell of a lot harder.