Chapter 23

With my hands tucked in the pockets of my pressed slacks, I stood at the large picture windows in my living room, staring out at the views I hadn't bothered to really take in until just then. As I watched the waters of the lake gently lap at the shoreline below, I recalled what Jolie had shared about seeing the town through the happy memories it had given her.

Thanks to Ethan, all those memories I'd kept locked up for years were flowing freely. Not only the ones he'd reminded me of, but all of them. It had been a shock to my system to remember how much I'd enjoyed those years I had lived here—especially the ones after my mother had left and it had been just my father and me. But with Jolie sitting there beside me, a buoy that kept me from sinking under, I had been able to wade through the shock and come out the other side.

Now I stared through the glass, remembering exactly how pleasant the water had felt as I dove beneath the surface in a competition with my dad to see who could reach the bottom fastest. I remembered the sheer joy I felt when I beat him every single time. Once Millicent entered the picture, she'd stand on the shoreline and cheer happily for each of my wins. Looking on it as an adult, I know he lost on purpose, but back then, those wins had filled me with so much pride I'd walk around with a puffed-out chest for the rest of the day.

I was seeing this town through new eyes, and it was all thanks to Jolie.

On that thought, I clenched my jaw and curled my hands into fists inside my pockets as I remembered how badly I'd screwed up the night before. I hadn't expected it to be so... damn... good. I knew the moment I slid inside her I was done for. Jolie had wrecked me completely. Obliterated me, and that had fucked with my head to the point that I'd ruined everything. I would have given anything to have someone I could call and talk my situation over with, but I had never been someone to offer a shoulder to lean on, let alone needed one myself. That realization sank to the pit of my stomach like a lead weight being dropped into the ocean. For the first time in my life, my solitude wasn't a comfort. It was lonely.

On a heavy sigh, I pulled my cell out of my pocket and scrolled through my contacts, noticing that most of the names stored in the device were business associates or contacts I kept on the hook for future endeavors. That had never bothered me before, but as I thumbed through, looking for one number in particular, I started to feel like something was missing. Was this really the life I wanted, something so closed off and limited? What was in store for me as I got older? Would I be one of those sad, pathetic old men whose work meant so much that I died alone at my desk? Would there be anyone to mourn me at my funeral?

Christ, when did my chest get so tight? I was either having a heart attack or those pesky little panic attacks had returned... the one I used to get after Estelle ripped me away from the only home I'd ever known.

Massaging the ache at the center of my chest, I tapped the screen to engage the call and brought the phone to my ear. Two rings later, my father's voice filled my ear.

"Vaughn?"

"Yeah. Hey, Dad. It's me."

His chuckled carried through the line. "I know that, son. Your name popped up. I'm just a little surprised you're calling."

I was starting to regret my decision to call. "Is now a bad time? I can let you go?—"

"No!" he practically shouted into the phone. "No, no. Now's a perfect time. I'm not doing anything."

My insides twisted up at my father's rushed words and the panic in his voice at the idea of me hanging up. I'd done that. Despite coming back to Pembrooke for him, he still felt uncertain about where our relationship stood. That was my fault, and as I stared out that window, I made a silent promise to him that I would fix the rift between us once and for all.

I swallowed audibly, trying to ease the sudden tightness in my throat. "Uh, so... h-how are you? Are you doing okay?"

Squeezing my eyes closed and scrunching my face, I reached up and banged my forehead with the side of my fist as a beat of tense silence passed between us. I didn't want to think about the fact that things with my own father were so strained that something as normal as a phone call was painfully awkward.

"I'm good," he finally answered after a few restless beats of my heart. "Real good, actually. Next week is my last chemo treatment and the docs are optimistic." For the first time in the hours that had passed since Jolie drove away from me, I felt something other than self-loathing. The tremor in the corner of my mouth returned, indicating a barely-there grin straining at my lips.

"Really? That's fantastic news," I said, the sincerity in those words coming through loud and clear. I hadn't realized a weight had been pressing down on my chest since the moment Hershel called me with his diagnosis until that very moment, when it finally lifted off and the worry I'd been carrying with me for months began to fade. He was going to be okay. The relief that came with that knowledge made my chest constrict and my eyes burn. "I'm happy to take you to that last appointment if you want."

My father cleared his throat before speaking, his voice sounding raspier than usual as he said, "Appreciate that, son. I know you have a lot on your plate with work and all, so that offer means a lot. Matter of fact, you being here at all means a lot. I don't know if I've said it before, but I'm grateful that you picked up and came back here for me."

I inhaled deeply through my nose and swallowed down the massive lump of emotion that had formed in my throat. "Yeah, of course," I insisted, knowing in that very moment that, if I'd been given the same options a million times over, I would have made the same choice every single time. The disdain I'd held for this town for so long was gone. Without my mother's influence, I was seeing things clearly for the first time in a very long time. The only reason I'd insisted I would never return to this place was because of Estelle. The only reason I convinced myself I hated it was because I let her venom sink into me. As shameful as it was to think I'd let her sway my mind, I knew better now. "We should do something after. As a way to celebrate," I suggested. "And maybe stick up a metaphorical middle finger to cancer."

Hershel's rich, happy chuckle filled my ear, creating a warmth inside me that bloomed and started to spread all throughout me. "That sounds perfect. And whatever we decide to do, maybe you can bring your girl along. Millie and I are dying to meet her."

That bloom shriveled up and some of the weight that had lifted came crashing right back down on me. "Yeah, I'm not so sure that's going to happen." I shocked myself with that admission.

"Oh..." There was a heavy pause that followed my confession, and I could only imagine what my father must have been thinking. "Do, uh... do you want to talk about it?"

My mouth opened and the words started spilling out without coercion. "I really fucked things up, and I'm not sure I can fix them."

I was met with a thoughtful hum that, for some reason, prompted me to spill the truth. Well, most of it, anyway. I shared the events of the night before, leaving out the sex as well as the fact that the whole relationship was fake. Not because I was worried what he'd think or say to that last bit of information, but because the feelings I had for Jolie churning inside me like a hurricane building steam were the furthest thing from fake. I laid it all out for him, how I got inside my own head, how I clammed up and turned into an asshole as usual, and ended up pushing her away.

I hadn't intended to share even half of that, but once I finished, the breath whooshed from my lungs on a gust of relief. I finally understood why people shared so openly with one another. Just the act of getting all of that off my chest was freeing. Cathartic.

At least that was how I was feeling until Hershel spoke. "Yep. I'd say you screwed the pooch big time, son."

I could see my expression go flat in the reflection off the gleaming glass in front of me. "Thanks a lot," I deadpanned.

He chuckled at my misery. "You messed up, no use sugar-coating that, but I wouldn't be having so much fun pulling your leg if I didn't think it was something you could bounce back from." That helped to ease the sting, but only a little. "Look, son, you were bound to screw up at some point, and it's pretty much a guarantee you'll do it again. You're a man, and we're prone to shoving a foot in our mouth more often than most of us are willing to admit. Lord knows I'd had to do my fair share of groveling. But Millie's always forgiven me. You know why?"

"Why?" I genuinely wanted to know. Needed to know.

"Because every single one of those apologies was sincere. Because I still do my very best to this day to learn from my mistakes. Because she knows from my actions that I don't take her for granted, even though I tend to piss her off."

Pinching the bridge of my nose to fight back the headache that was starting to stab behind my eyeballs, I let out a heavy exhale and asked, "What would you do if you were me? How would you fix it?"

"You go to your girl with your tail tucked between your legs, and you really and truly mean it; if she's the one for you, son, she'll forgive you."

"You make it sound so easy."

He let out a bark of laughter. "Hell no. You kidding? Relationships are hard as hell. You got two people with two different personalities that have to find a way to blend their lives together while doing such things as sharing the same bathroom. It's a wonder fifty percent of marriages end in divorce instead of homicide. But it's worth it. You care about this girl, you'll find a way to fix it. I have faith in you."

That bloom came back to life. "Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, son. I'm glad you called me with this, and... I hope you know there isn't anything you can't come to me with."

I was starting to see that, and it made that wall of ice in my chest melt even more.