Chapter 7

Going back to the house I'd been raised in was never easy these days. After my father's passing, my mother had elected to stay there instead of selling and I understood it. It was an incredible place, an old manor home with tons of space, elaborate gardens, and a stunning view of the ocean in the distance in the backyard, but without Dad, it just felt like something was missing.

As I walked into the foyer, a pang of nostalgia I only ever felt here stabbed my gut and I sighed, scrubbing my palms over my face. It had been three years, and some days, the pain of losing him was definitely still more acute than on others.

I didn't know how my mother could stand living here and yet I also knew we never would have been able to bring ourselves to sell it. With that ache pulsing in my chest, I took off to find her so I could fill her in on some of the decisions Serenity and I had made, but she wasn't in any of her usual spots and none of the staff seemed to be around.

She wasn't in the sitting room where she liked to read, or in the kitchen where she enjoyed keeping her in-house chef company while he cooked. I frowned, wondering if she'd forgotten that I was coming over.

Checking one room after another, I scratched my head and considered leaving, but eventually, I heard something coming from one of the spare rooms upstairs. Brow puckering, I pushed open the door to find her sitting on her butt on the floor, sifting through a box of my father's old things.

She looked up when I walked in, her warm brown eyes misty as she waved me over. "Hey, baby. Is it that late already? I guess I lost track of time. How are you? Come on in. Come sit with me."

I glanced at the floor, then strode over to the bed and sat down on it instead. "I just got back from my meeting with Serenity. There are a few things I'm going to need your input on before we take it any further."

My mother didn't respond, seemingly distracted by a Christmas ornament she had in her hand. She cradled it gently in her palm, a soft smile spreading on her lips as her eyes lingered on it. "This was such a great Christmas."

"Excuse me?"

She held up the ornament and I realized it had an old black and white picture inside the bauble. She motioned for me to take it. Frowning, I leaned forward and recognized the faces of my mother and father in the photograph, but there was no sign of any of the rest of us, which meant they'd been pretty young here.

"We were in our early twenties when that was taken," she explained quietly, her voice husky as she reminisced. "I was in my first trimester with Zachary."

She smiled up at me then, tears welling in her eyes as she dragged in a deep breath. "That was the best Christmas ever. Before the rest of you crazy boys came along."

Her tone was teasing as she beckoned for me to return the ornament. I gave it back and she gently put it in its packaging once more, handling it with love and care. She picked through some of the other items in the box, lifting out a bowling trophy that had been in Dad's home office when I was a kid.

"Do you know he won this when he was only fourteen?" she asked. "He'd taken up bowling only a month before and he always said it reminded him of what you can achieve through hard work and dedication."

She traced her fingers along the curve of the ball, and I wasn't even sure she'd heard me talking about the wedding earlier. The last few days, I'd been thinking that she'd moved on too fast, but right now, I was wondering if she had moved on at all.

Handling all of Dad's things so gently, with tears in her eyes and longing in her tone? It made me think I'd misread the situation completely. Sighing as I stood up, I moved over to her and sat down by her side, taking off my jacket and rolling up my sleeves.

"Okay, let's see what else we've got in here," I said.

She turned her sad smile to me and gave me a small nod. "Thank you, Dash."

"Anytime, Mom." I took her hand, squeezing it before pulling the flap of the box down a bit more and reaching into it. "Why are we going through his things exactly?"

She chuckled, sighing as she shook her head at me. "I miss him. This helps sometimes. Just remembering him and all the good times we had. Are you okay?"

"Of course." I frowned. "I miss him too, but?—"

She gave me a meaningful look. "That's not what I was referring to, honey. Of course, you miss him. He was your dad and he was a wonderful one, wasn't he?"

That ache that had been in my chest earlier sprang back to life, a sharp pain spearing my heart. "Yeah, he was amazing."

Things had been so different when he was alive. I wouldn't have walked into a house that felt empty. There was always energy in our home before, with Dad making jokes with the staff or laughter echoing from the patio.

At dinner, he would always be holding Mom's hand or staring at her with rapt attention while she spoke. To the day he'd died, he'd teased me like a kid, always telling me I was too serious for my age—even after I'd turned thirty.

Mom put her soft hand on my forearm, and when I refocused, I realized she was staring intently at me. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been so different since we told you we were getting married. Talk to me, son. I'm your mother. I already know you lied when you said you were fine, so tell me what's really going on."

"I'm just worried about you," I admitted gently. "It feels like Dad just died and now you're marrying someone else. I don't want you to get hurt, and if you think there's any possibility that this is a mistake, then I'll help you get out of it."

She patted my arm before she shook her head, still looking right into my eyes. "It's not a mistake, baby. I'm not leaving Daddy behind. I'll never forget him and I'll never stopping loving him, but Richard is a good man. A kind man. He could never be your father and he won't even try, but Daddy is gone, Dash. I wish he wasn't, but he is, and that means we need to do what we need to do to keep on living without him."

Tears spilled out of her eyes, sliding slowly down her cheeks. She silently begged me to understand. My heart broke into thousands of tiny pieces and I nodded, wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her close.

"I know he's gone, Mom. I hate it, but I know it's true. I just don't want you to get hurt again. That's all."

My own pain sliced through to the very center of my being as she wept in my arms. I held her close, just feeling it as I waited for the wave to pass. In the last few years, I'd learned more about grief than I ever would've thought possible, and while I had no idea of my mom's experiences with it, my own had taught me that the severe pain came and went. It ebbed and flowed like the tides, almost overwhelming one minute and barely there the next.

Eventually, Mom patted my shoulder and lifted her head up again, swiping away the tears and taking a few deep breaths. "Richard won't hurt me, baby. If that's really all you're worried about, then don't be. He's exceptionally patient with me when I'm missing your father. He supports me and comforts me. He listens to all our old stories and interacts with me about them rather than just dismissing the memories."

"That's good," I said, my voice a little rougher than usual as I fought the emotion rolling around inside. "I'm glad, Mom. Really. You deserve to be happy. It's not like I want you to be alone. It felt sudden."

"It was sudden," she admitted, chuckling softly as more tears shimmered in her eyes. "If I'm being completely honest, it took me by surprise when he proposed, but I do love him and the man I planned on spending the rest of my life with isn't around anymore. I don't want to be alone, and frankly, I don't want you to be alone either."

"I'm good by myself," I said immediately, needing to shut this down before it went any further. "I know you want grandkids and all that, but you've got four other sons. Speak to them." I paused. "Did it really take you by surprise?"

She nodded, letting out a little sigh. "If I had seen it coming or if we'd discussed it before, I'd have told you. Of course, I would've told you, but it just happened and you know what? I'm happy it did. I'm happy I didn't have time to obsess about it and to overthink whether it was too soon. How much time would've been enough time. Five years? Ten? I'm fifty-five years old. I don't want to spend the next twenty being lonely and miserable, and I definitely don't want to be a burden to you boys."

"You could never be a burden," I said emphatically. "Never. If that's why you're?—"

"It's not," she assured me quickly. "I'm just saying that it might've gotten to the point where it felt like that to you, and I don't want that. I want to live while I'm alive. You and I know better than most how quickly life can be cut short. Stolen away in the blink of an eye even when you think you have so many years left."

Sucking in a long breath through my nostrils, I nodded and hugged her again. "As long as you're happy, Mom. That's all I want."

"I am," she whispered. "As happy as I can be without your father around, anyway."

When she pulled away from me again, she packed up the box and pushed it away. "Okay. That's enough for one day. I need to take my mind off things."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "How do you propose we do that?"

She smiled through the lingering tears and winked at me. "I have a plan. Walk with me downstairs. Anton prepared a lavender crème brule for me."

"Your favorite." I chuckled. "Of course, he made it for you. Is Richard here?"

She shook her head as we left the spare room. "He went out with some of his old colleagues. They may be retired, but they like to be in touch. Don't worry. We have the house to ourselves."

Leading me down the spiral staircase, she headed to the living room, calling to Anton about the dessert. I followed, appalled when I saw reruns of Serenity's old show playing on the TV. Mom walked in as if she hadn't even noticed it, then reclined in her favorite armchair and waved for me to take a seat.

"What is this?" I asked as I jerked my head in the direction of the TV. "Please don't tell me you watch this trash."

"Oh, I don't just watch it. I love it." She grinned at me. "Serenity is a fan favorite and there's a lot to learn about her on this show. I like her."

"So does everyone else and their mother," I grumbled, not admitting that I'd done a bit of research on this show myself over the past couple days. Serenity had been the public's sweetheart, the fun, popular girl who hadn't indulged in any backstabbing and hadn't contributed to the backstabbing.

I didn't know if she was just different at work or if she'd changed, but she seemed a lot less bubbly these days. For some reason, that bothered me as I settled in to watch the show with my mom for a bit before I would head home.

I still didn't like her, but something about her definitely got to me—even if I would rather join my father in the ever after than admit it—or worse, ever act on it.