“Not for a fact. But he suspects. To his credit he’s never said one word and has been good to Lori Anne. He’s the only father she’s ever known.”
“How will she react to this?”
“That’s a good question. And another reason why I kept it to myself.”
“So why the truth now?”
“We can’t build something on lies. And your mother came to see me.”
That shocked him.
“She told me about her illness. She deserves quality time with her granddaughter. We can’t keep making the same mistakes over and over. People are being hurt by our foolishness.”
She was right. Together, they’d really screwed things up.
“I’m so sorry, Brent. For everything.”
“I think I should be the one apologizing. We both wasted a lot of years.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
He knew what she meant.
“We have Lori Anne.”
He left half an hour later and drove home. He should be mad over the years he’d been deprived of a daughter. But he’d been angry long enough. And he was a father. Incredible. Maybe he and Ashley could finally start building something good. He’d been apprehensive about coming back to Concord, thinking the physical distance enough to keep the past at bay. Now he was glad he’d made the move. He’d never wanted Paula to die. She made that choice. And perhaps that had been her intent. To wreak guilt upon him so deep that he could never be happy. Hard to say. But there was no denying that had been his life these past years.
No more.
Time to start over.
He turned onto Live Oak and slowed at his parents’ drive.Nestled next to the curb was a white Hickory Row vehicle. He parked and quickly headed inside. His mother met him at the front door.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
He glanced to his right and saw Christopher Bozin sitting comfortably in the front parlor.
His boss stood. “I should have called first, but I really needed to see you before I went back to my house for the night.”
“I’m sorry you had to wait.”
Bozin waived off his apology. “Your mother and I have had a wonderful chat.”
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” his mother said. “It was so nice to finally meet you.”
Bozin acknowledged her with a nod and a smile.
They sat. He noticed that Bozin wore the same suit and tie from earlier at the negotiations.
“This is a lovely home.”
“My parents bought it when I was a little boy and fixed it up through the years.”
Bozin gestured to one of the pictures angling from atop the table next to him. “Is that your father?” A tarnished Victorian frame surrounded a man and woman, both middle-aged.
He nodded.
“Were you and he close?”
