“Yeah, well, it’s true. Just don’t go repeating it.”
He lets out a small, humorless laugh.
“I can talk to your teacher. See if it would be ok for someone else to go with you. Maybe Ivy or Paige.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”
“Ok. If you change your mind, let me know.”
He sniffles again, and a sharp pang hits me square in the chest. He doesn’t deserve the hand he’s been dealt, and he sure a shit deserves more of a family than I can give him. Some days, I wonder if I’ll ever be enough. When he looks at me like I’m some goddamn hero, it makes everything worth it.
“I love you, buddy.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
I tuck him in, grieving all over again for the little boy who was left behind with an unqualified father and no support system. I still remember the suitcase with a few meager outfits, his birth certificate, and some toy dinosaurs she left with him.
After Bree left, it took a while for Aiden to trust anyone again. Who could blame him when the one person who is supposed to love him unconditionally left and never looked back?
I suppose we have that in common. My mom didn't leave of her own free will, but my dad did, and he took her with him without a second thought for the damaged kids he was leaving behind. It’s not lost on me that Aiden is about to be ten years old—the same age I was when my world turned upside down.
I’ve tried to be a good father, but it’s hard to build a solid foundation when you don’t have a clear blueprint to follow. My dad is arguably one of the worst. I’m doing the best I can, but is it enough? Am I enough?
My father wasn’t always the heartless man who stole my mother from us. I don’t know what turned him into a monster, or if his cruelty was just lying dormant for years until he finally snapped. Sometimes, I wonder if I have that hidden darkness within me, too. If I ever find a woman to love, will I have the capacity to keep her safe—to love her like she deserves?
There’s enough doubt to keep me from pursuing a serious relationship. It doesn’t matter anyway. There’s no room in my heart for someone else. It already belongs toher.
Ruby
I’m reaching for a box of Froot Loops on the top shelf in the breakfast aisle of the Oak Ridge Market when one of my songs starts playing through the speakers.
I toss the cereal into my basket.
If only sixteen-year-old Ruby could see you now.
A small voice reaches me from the next aisle over. “Dad, it’s Ruby! I love this song.”
I round the corner, intending to surprise the kid and maybe take a picture or sign something, until a deeper voice speaks—one I could recognize in my sleep. “What’s next on the list, buddy?”
When I look up, I lock eyes with Liam. He’s standing nextto a display of protein powders, becauseof coursehe is. His tattooed, corded forearms are on full display as his son reads off a piece of paper.
“Goldie,” Liam says, my nickname flowing off his tongue like the smoothest amber whiskey.
“No, that’s not on the list. It’s oatmeal,” Aiden says matter-of-factly.
I step closer, and Aiden looks up from the list, his hauntingly familiar green eyes widening. The resemblance is striking—it’s like looking at a much smaller version of Liam if he had curly hair. He’sadorable.
Liam clears his throat. “Aiden. This is Ruby.”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m not blind.”
I laugh, glancing at Liam. “Kids are ruthless.” Turning my attention back to his son, I crouch down to his level and offer him my hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“How do you know my dad?” he asks. “We listen to your songs all the time! Starlight is my favorite. Can I have a hug? You’re really pretty.”
“Slow down,” Liam says, a slight smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “One question at a time.”
I hold out my arms and let him walk into them for a hug. He squeezes me tight, like he doesn’t want to let go, and I let him linger longer than I would if it were anyone else’s kid. When he steps back, I answer his question. “Me and your dad go way back. I used to make him listen to me sing.”
