Chapter Twenty-One

Boone

I sat there in my truck and gripped the steering wheel tighter than I should've been. My knuckles were turning white, and I couldn't seem to loosen my hold. It felt like if I let go, I might lose my grip on the rest of it—the thoughts, the anger, the confusion.

Goddamn.

I had a fourteen-year-old son I knew nothing about.

Nash.

The name was still spinning around in my head, tangled up in all the years I'd lost. All the things I didn't know—his favorite color, what made him laugh, hell, even what he looked like when he was a baby.

I glanced at my phone again. Dolly had texted me earlier, right after they'd gotten back from the doctor's. Nash had broken his arm, she said. They were home. I stared at her message for a while but didn't reply. What the hell was I supposed to say? I wasn't ready. Didn't have the words, or maybe I didn't trust myself to put them together in any kind of way that wouldn't end in me blowing up.

I pulled into her driveway just after eight with Nash's bike in the back of my truck. The damn thing was busted—bent tire, scratched frame. He wouldn't be able to ride it for weeks with his broken arm, and I was already planning on fixing it. It was the least I could do. Maybe the only thing I could do right now.

The porch light flicked on. Dolly stepped out with arms wrapped tight around her middle and stood in the light like a ghost from the past. Her eyes were on me, heavy with answers I wasn't sure I was ready for. But I needed them. Needed the truth.

I climbed out of the truck, grabbed the bike, and carried it up to the porch. The tension between us was thick enough to choke on. I leaned the bike against the railing. "He's going to need a new wheel. I already got one ordered. Once it's here, I'll fix it."

She nodded. "Thank you, Boone. You don't need to fix it, though."

I clenched my jaw.

Fourteen years.

I had fourteen goddamn years to make up for.

"I will." My voice was rough and tighter than I'd meant it to be. But the anger was boiling too close to the surface now, and I didn't trust myself to say much more without it spilling over.

Silence stretched out between us like a canyon—deep, wide, impossible to cross. She was the first to speak, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Boone, I know you're angry—"

"Damn straight, I'm angry," I cut her off, my voice low but sharp enough to sting. "Fourteen years, Dolly. Fourteen years, and I had no damn idea. Not one word, not one hint."

Her eyes dropped to the ground, and I saw her bite her lip like she was trying to hold back whatever she wanted to say next. "I did what I thought was best," she whispered again, her voice trembling just enough to let me know my words were cutting deep. Good.

"Best?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You thought it was best to keep my son from me? To let me walk away and never tell me? You let everyone believe you had some wild one-night stand, that Nash was the result of that? You thought that was better than letting me be his dad?" My voice was rising, and I didn't try to stop it. Fourteen years of silence were flooding out all at once. "You didn't do what was best for me or Nash. You did what was best for you."

I could see my words hitting her, one after the other. She flinched just a little, but enough for me to notice. I knew I was hurting her, but I didn't care. I was hurt, too.

"You had your dreams, Boone," she said, her voice stronger now but still edged with guilt. "You wanted to be a bull rider. How could you have done that with me and a baby? You were going to travel all over the country, and what? Drag me and Nash around with you? I knew you were going to be great, and that wouldn't have happened if I'd told you I was pregnant."

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest as my disbelief swirled with rage. "That wasn't your choice to make!" I jabbed a finger into my chest, taking a step closer to her. "You keep talking like you know what my dream was, but you only knew half of it, Dolly. Yeah, I wanted to be a bull rider, but that wasn't all. You were part of that dream. You—us. I wanted you by my side, damn it."

The pain hit harder than I expected and settled in my chest, heavy and raw. I sucked in a breath, fighting the burn of tears that were threatening to surface. I never cried, hadn't in years. Couldn't even remember the last time I had. But right now? Right now, I felt like I was losing all over again.

"And now, I find out you were pregnant when you told me to leave?" I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Fourteen years, Dolly. Fourteen goddamn years. You didn't think I had a right to know?"

She was staring at me with her eyes wide and glistening with tears. I could tell she didn't know what to say. Her hands were shaking, and for a second, I almost regretted how harsh I'd been. Almost.

"I didn't want to hold you back," she said softly, but there was something firmer underneath, like she'd been holding on to that justification for so long it had become part of her. "You were going to be somebody, Boone. I didn't want to be the reason you gave it all up."

"You didn't have that right," I said, though my voice was rough but quieter now. "You didn't have the right to decide that for me, Dolly. You should've told me."

"I know." Her voice cracked, and she ran a hand through her hair, pulling it away from her face. "I know that now, Boone. I do. But back then… I thought I was doing what was best for you. And for Nash."

"For Nash?" I scoffed. "You think it was best for him to grow up not knowing his own father? You think it was best for me to miss every goddamn birthday, every scraped knee, every ball game?"

Tears slipped down her cheeks now, and she wiped at them with the back of her hand. "I wasn't thinking about it like that. I didn't… I didn't know how to make it all work, Boone."

"You didn't even try," I shot back. My chest was tight, filled with all the things I wanted to say, but I couldn't get them out. It was too much. Too many years. Too much lost.

She took a shaky breath and stepped toward me. "I'm sorry, Boone. I really am. But we can't go back. I can't undo what's already been done. I can only tell you that I never meant to hurt you like this."

Her words hung in the air, heavy and thick, but they didn't change the way I felt. Not right now.

"I don't know what to do now," I admitted, my voice quieter, almost more to myself than to her. "I don't know how to be his dad."

"You already are," she said, her voice softer now, tentative. "And you always have been. You just didn't know it."

That hit harder than I expected. Because she was right. I was his dad, but I hadn't been there for any of it. I hadn't been there to teach him how to ride a bike or throw a ball. I hadn't been there to show him how to handle his first heartbreak or to tell him that sometimes, life just knocks you down, and you have to get back up.

But I was here now. And I wasn't going to let another day go by without being part of his life.

"I want to be in his life," I said, my voice firm, resolute. "I don't care how hard it is. I don't care what it takes. I'm not walking away from him."

Dolly nodded, her eyes red and swollen from crying. "I know," she whispered. "I want that too, Boone. I know I made a mistake fifteen years ago."

I didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at her, trying to figure out where the hell we went from here.

"Does he know?" I asked.

She shook her head. "He doesn't know you're his dad."

"When are you going to tell him?" I didn't want to miss another minute without him knowing that I was his dad and I was here for him.

"I can wake him up and tell him right now if you want me to."

As much as I wanted that, I shook my head. "He's already been through enough today."

She nodded and bit her lip like she was trying to steady herself. "Then I'll tell him tomorrow. Unless… you want to be the one to tell him?"

I shook my head and my throat was tight. "No. I'm really just a stranger to him. He needs to hear it from you."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue. A stranger to my own son. Fourteen years gone in the blink of an eye, and I didn't have a clue who Nash was. He didn't know me either. But that was going to change. I might be a stranger now, but I wasn't going to stay that way.

Dolly let out a shaky breath, nodding again. "Okay. I'll tell him tomorrow."

I didn't say anything. I just stood there, staring at her.

"I should go," I said finally, stepping back.

Dolly didn't try to stop me. She just wrapped her arms around herself and gave me a sad, tired smile. "Goodnight, Boone."

"Goodnight, Dolly."

I turned and walked toward my truck. I climbed into the cab and gripped the steering wheel with my hands. I glanced back at the house, the porch light still casting a warm glow, and then I started the engine.

As I backed out of her driveway, my chest tightened with the realization of what tomorrow would bring. Tomorrow, Nash would know the truth. Tomorrow, I'd start the fight to be a part of my son's life.

Nothing was going to make me walk away this time around.