8. Sterling
CHAPTER 8
Sterling
“ H ey bud,” I say, walking into Sean’s room.
He’s on the floor in front of his bed, playing with two race cars. He looks up with a frown.
“Dad, it’s play time,” he complains.
I chuckle, heading over to ruffle his hair before settling down on his bed. Sean’s a kid that values routines. Not strictly, but he does have a particular time he eats his meals and plays. But when it comes to his reading time and sleeping, the cards are off the table.
“I just wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” I start. “You disappearing on me like that. You can’t do that, Sean. It’s dangerous. What if something had happened to you?”
He fell asleep on the car ride back home and I had to leave early this morning for work so I couldn’t talk to him about his disappearing act yesterday. He scared the shit out of me. I literally took my eyes off him for a minute and then he was gone. It would be more worrying if this was a regular occurrence, but that’s the first time he’s done something like that.
He’s usually very well behaved.
“Sorry, Daddy,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “It won’t happen again.”
I smile. “But are you sure nothing happened? You can talk to me, Sean. I’m always on your side,” I say gently.
He avoids my gaze at that, looking down at the toy cars on the floor. Which confirms my suspicions that something did happen yesterday.
My tone grows more serious. “Sean,” I prod firmly. “You know you can talk to your old man.”
He looks up at me with a sad smile. “You’re not an old man, Daddy. You’re like twenty.”
I laugh. “Not quite. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“There was a little boy there, where we watched the play. He came with his mommy and daddy. His mommy was so pretty like mine and she kissed him here like my mommy does,” he explains, pointing at his cheek.
My heart grows tighter. I stare at him for several seconds, without a clue what to say to him.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, bud,” I finally say, my tone a little shaky. “But you know your mommy’s on a trip. She’ll come see you soon, I promise.”
He nods slowly. “I know, Daddy. I just miss her.”
Fucking hell.
“I know, bud. You’ll see her soon,” I promise.
He stands up and moves between my legs to throw his little arms around me. I hold him as close as I can, the sinking feeling in my stomach growing. I hate seeing him in pain, but at the moment, I can’t fix it for him.
I’m his father. I should be able to fix fucking anything for him.
Before Sean was born, I hated the physical contact. I couldn’t understand the need to be close to any human beings. I did it out of necessity at times, but it always left me feeling hollow.
But since my son’s been born, there’s this space in my heart that he occupies that helps me to somehow feel full. I felt empty for more than half my life and now I have Sean. I’ll do anything to ensure he has a better childhood than I had growing up.
I’m just terrified that the blocks are already in place and history is starting to repeat itself.
After I assure him and ensure that everything will be okay, he starts telling me about a book he read.
“It’s about a girl that rescues a bunch of dogs and takes them into her house and gives them really nice names, like Olaf and Pinocchio and Richard,” he says with a giggle. “Can you believe that, Dad? Richard is Mommy’s dad’s name.”
“Yeah, cool,” I murmur distractedly, my mind still fixed on his earlier revelation.
“Dad, can we get a dog?” he asks. “I want a dog.”
That draws my attention. I arch an eyebrow. “Sean, you can barely take care of yourself. How will you take care of a dog?”
“I can take care of myself,” he argues.
“You can’t even bathe yourself,” I tease. “Who’s going to bathe the dog?”
He pauses, taking the time to think about the question. Finally, he beams.
“My nanny will bathe the dog, too. Just like she does me.”
I roll my eyes. “Bud, you can’t go through life expecting people to do things for you. You need to learn how to take responsibility for your stuff. For example, you can learn to put your socks away and into the laundry basket. And you can’t always leave your toys and your books wherever you like.”
One thing about my son, he’s going to quietly dissect your every sentence. If he doesn’t know something, he asks before giving his own reply. He’s brilliant, really. I have no doubt he’ll do great things.
“But we have people that do all those things for me,” he says quietly.
Yeah, no.
“Sure you do. And you’re so incredibly lucky to be in this position. But you should also know how to take care of yourself. At the end of the day, the only person you can depend on is yourself.”
“Can’t I depend on you and Mommy?”
I exhales softly. “Yeah, of course you can. Always.”
“So, does that mean you can take care of my dog?” he asks excitedly.
I chuckle. “That’s not where I wanted this conversation to go.”
I really hope he learned something from that. He’s probably too young to fully understand, but we’ve got time.
“Can we please get a dog, Daddy? Please.”
His green eyes go wide as he looks at me pleadingly. I inwardly groan.
“Tell you what, Sean. I’ll consider your request.”
“Does that mean you will?” he asks hopefully.
“Maybe.”
He fist bumps the air. “Yay. I’m getting a dog!”
Eventually, his nanny comes in to get him ready for bed. As soon as I leave his room, my expression crumples. My jaw tightens as I slowly walk to my room, letting myself feel the anger I couldn’t feel when I was with Sean.
I change out of the suit I wore to the office and into joggers and a black T-shirt. I grab some running shoes as well, putting them on and heading downstairs.
“Sir?” Karl questions as soon as he sees me. “Would you like to have your dinner now?”
“Do I look like I’m about to have dinner?” I snap.
He pauses in surprise for a moment before his expression goes blank once again. There’s a reason Karl has worked for my family for so long, especially with my father being a control freak. He’s good at keeping his emotions in check. Still, that was out of line.
I lift a hand to rub the side of my forehead. “I’m sorry, Karl. I’m just really tense,” I tell him.
“No problem, sir.”
“I’m just going out for a quick run. I’ll have dinner when I get back.”
He nods in understanding. The sun is long gone by the time I step outside of the house, pale moonlight peeking through. Sean’s confession from earlier echoes in my mind, further igniting the simmering anger within me.
I start down the endless driveway heading toward the front gate, which opens for me without hesitation. As soon as I’m outside the compound, my pace increases. Running has always been a sort of escape for me, a way to channel the chaos that’s always brimming within me. The rhythmic pounding of my feet against the concrete serves to steady the erratic tempo of my emotions.
As I push forward, the familiar burn in my muscles begin to surface, but it’s a welcome sensation. It distracts me from all the shit I’ve had to deal with in the past couple of weeks. My parents still aren’t back in the country and I want so fucking badly to talk to my mother. I want an explanation, but it’s pretty clear she’s going to avoid the discussion for as long as it takes.
And then there’s my ex-wife. The last time Sean and I saw Marissa was a couple months ago. We’ve been divorced for three years but we kept up a good co-parenting relationship. Then one day she comes to me and announces that she’s leaving on a trip. She tells me it’ll be a while but that she’ll be back soon. Naturally, I’m confused, but it’s not like I could stop her. But then weeks turned into months and she’s still not back.
Even worse, she’s cut off all contact. Neither Sean nor I have spoken to her in months. I don’t fucking get it.
Everything around me blurs as I increase my speed, my breath coming in sharp bursts. I focus on the physical exertion, welcoming the strain. But no matter how fast I run, I can’t escape the reality of the shitty situation I’ve found myself in.
Sean is going to continue asking for his mother. And I’m this close to hiring a P.I. to figure out exactly where she’s gone. I’ve talked to her parents and all they’ve offered me is hollow reassurances. Apparently, Marissa’s on some kind of wellness retreat with no cell service.
Which is honestly bullshit.
Sweat drips down my brow, stinging my eyes, but I don’t slow down. I think of Sean seeking answers that I can’t provide and it makes me feel inadequate, like I’m failing as a father. Finally, I have to stop. I come to a halt, hands on my knees, gasping for air. The world spins slightly and I close my eyes, willing the dizziness to pass.
My breathing slowly starts to settle, and with that comes the heaviness in my chest. I straighten up, wiping the sweat from my face before pulling my phone from my pocket. I pull up Marissa’s contact information and press the call button, holding the phone to my ear as it rings on and on without an answer.
Predictably, it goes straight to voicemail.
“Where the hell are you?” I begin, my voice filled with barely restrained fury. “Sean asked about you today. He misses you. You said you’d be back soon but it’s been months, Marissa. Your parents keep feeding me this line about you not having cell service, but that’s bullshit and you know it. In this day and age, who goes completely off the grid without a word? Especially not when you’re a mother to a little boy.”
I pause, swallowing hard. “At least have the decency to call and talk to Sean. Let your son hear your voice. Let me know you’re alive. This isn’t like you, Marissa. And it’s driving me crazy. Call me the fuck back.”
I end the call abruptly, tension coiled tight within me. After a heavy sigh, I turn back around to head back home. Five minutes later, though, I’m coming to an abrupt halt at the sight before me. I realize I must have strayed farther away from home than I realized. I’m standing in front of a small park, and of all the people I could have run into, Emilia Cameron sits beneath a sprawling oak, on a weathered bench.
Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders, catching the moonlight and framing her delicate features. She’s gazing at a cluster of birds nestled in the branches, her expression tinged with melancholy. For a moment, I stand frozen, captivated by the sight of her. The soft light accentuates the gentle curve of her jaw, the subtle arch of her brows.
There’s something innately beautiful about her. I feel a sudden tug, an inexplicable desire to approach her. It’s odd. I don’t understand why I’m so drawn to her. But it’s the last thing I need right now.
Just as I decide to leave her in peace, my foot snaps a dry branch underfoot. The sharp sound shatters the quiet, causing Emilia to startle and turn in my direction. Our eyes meet, and for a heartbeat, the world narrows to just the two of us.
Then her brows furrow. “Sterling Harrington?”