Chapter Twenty-Two

Dolly

"Boone West is my dad?"

I nodded, feeling the truth settle between us. I never imagined I'd hear Nash say those words out loud, not like this, and definitely not today. Fifteen years ago, I never thought Boone would come back to Magnolia Grove, let alone that we'd be sitting here, having this conversation.

But life has a funny way of throwing you into situations you never thought you'd face.

"Yup, Boone is your dad," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "We were a couple before I broke up with him, and he went off to ride bulls."

Nash frowned, his mind working through the pieces. He was too sharp for me to leave anything out and too old for me to sugarcoat it. "But if you guys were broken up... then how?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "You didn't tell him about me?"

I sighed, bracing myself for what was about to come. I had always dreaded this conversation, knowing one day Nash would want answers that I wasn't sure I had good enough explanations for.

"Your dad and I started dating when we were sophomores in high school," I began. "We fell in love fast, and we were inseparable. When we graduated, Boone had big dreams of being a professional bull rider, and he was damn good at it. Then I found out I was pregnant with you, and... well, I didn't tell him."

Nash's face scrunched up, disbelief clear in his expression. "Why wouldn't you tell him about me?" He shook his head, his voice sharp with confusion and frustration. "He's my dad, Mom. You had no right to keep that from him."

He was right. There was no dancing around it.

"I know, Nash. I know," I said softly. "But I was young and scared, and your dad—he was about to leave to chase his dream. I thought, in my twisted young mind, that not telling him was the best way to let him have that chance. I thought if I told him, he'd give everything up for us, and I didn't want to be the one to hold him back from his dreams."

Nash shook his head, eyes hard. "That's crap, Mom."

A lump formed in my throat. Thirty-three-year-old me agreed with him. I didn't have the luxury of hindsight back then, and now, facing the aftermath of that decision, it was clear as day how wrong I had been.

"Yeah, you're right," I admitted. "It was crap. I didn't make the right decision back then. I didn't think about what it would mean for you or for him." I swallowed hard, looking at Nash's angry face. "I was selfish. I thought I was protecting both of you, but really, I just made things harder for everyone."

Nash stood up and paced the room like he was trying to burn off the frustration bubbling inside him. "So, what now? What does this even mean?" he asked, his voice shaking with emotion. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

I wished I had an easy answer for him. I wished I could tell him it would all be fine, that it would somehow work out perfectly.

"I don't have all the answers, Nash," I admitted. "But Boone—your dad—wants to be a part of your life. He didn't know, and now that he does, he's not going to walk away."

Nash stopped pacing and stared at me, eyes wide with something between anger and fear. "So what, he just gets to show up out of nowhere and be my dad? Like none of this ever happened?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I could see the hurt and confusion in his eyes, and I hated that I had put it there.

"I'm sorry, Nash," I said softly. "I know this is a lot, and I don't expect you to be okay with it right away. But Boone's a good man, and he wants to get to know you. He's already started fixing up your bike. Did you know that?"

Nash's gaze flickered, and for a second, I saw a crack in his anger. "He is?"

I nodded. "He's already ordered a new wheel for it. He wants to make up for lost time, even though we both know he can't get those years back. But he's trying, Nash. He's really trying."

Nash sat down heavily on the couch and rubbed his hands over his face. "This is just... a lot," he muttered. "I don't know how to deal with it. I'm really mad at you, Mom. How could you do this?"

"I know, baby," I said, sitting down next to him. "And you don't have to figure it all out right now. It's okay to be confused, and it's okay to be mad. Hell, I've been mad at myself for years over this. But Boone's not going anywhere. He wants to be in your life if you'll let him." This wasn't going to be about me right now. Boone and Nash both had a right to be mad at me, and I would wait till however long it took for them to let that anger go.

Nash was quiet for a long time and just stared down at his hands. I watched him, trying to give him the space to process, but every second of silence felt like an eternity. I had no idea what was going through his head, and it scared me. Would he resent me for keeping this from him? Would he push Boone away? Or worse, would he push me away?

Finally, he looked up at me, his expression softening just a little. "I want to meet him," he said quietly. "Like... really meet him. Not just some guy who helped me when I crashed my bike, but... my dad."

Relief washed over me, but it was bittersweet. I had no idea what the future held for the two of them, but at least they would get the chance to know each other. "I'll set it up," I promised. "And we'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

Nash nodded, but I could still feel the tension lingering in the air between us. His shoulders were tight, and though he was trying to hold it together, I knew he was reeling inside. Who wouldn't be? I'd dropped a bombshell on him and told him the truth about his father—something I should have done a long time ago. It wasn't fair to him, and it wasn't fair to Boone either, but I had thought I was doing the right thing back then. How young and na?ve I had been.

"I'm gonna go to my room," Nash mumbled, breaking the silence.

I nodded, my heart heavy. "Okay," I said softly. "Take all the time you need. I know this is a lot to process."

He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the hallway, his footsteps heavy, almost dragging. I watched him disappear into his room; the door shut softly behind him. My heart ached. I hated seeing him like this, knowing I was the reason for his confusion and frustration.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my own emotions in check. It had been a tough morning, and I needed a moment to gather myself. I slumped down onto the couch and ran a hand through my hair.

I stared at my phone sitting on the coffee table and knew what I had to do next. Boone deserved to know that Nash was aware of the truth now. He'd been patient, giving me space to figure out how to tell Nash, and now it was time to follow through.

I grabbed my phone and unlocked it with a shaky hand. As I typed it out, the text felt heavier than it should've.

Nash knows. He wants to meet you.

I stared at the words for a second before hitting send. My stomach twisted into knots, a mix of nerves and hope fluttered inside me. This was what I wanted, wasn't it? For Boone and Nash to finally connect, to have the relationship they should have had all along. But that didn't make it any less terrifying.

It didn't take long for my phone to buzz with a reply. I glanced down and saw Boone's name flash across the screen.

I'll come over. Hang out with him, if he's up for it.

A small wave of relief washed over me. Boone was as ready as he could be, and I knew he wasn't going to let anything stop him from getting to know his son. I had to give him credit for that—he was handling all of this better than I had expected.

I quickly typed back: I think he'll be up for it. He's processing, but I know he wants to get to know you.

Boone's response came almost immediately: I'll be there in an hour.

I set my phone down and stared at it for a moment as if it could somehow tell me how all of this would play out. An hour. That wasn't a lot of time, but it was enough for me to prepare and to brace myself for what was coming next.