Sunday, June 25th #2
“When it was time for me to move to Georgia, Rica was going to stay in New York. Her parents helped with the house. Things seemed stable. So I didn’t push.
The only reason you guys ever lived with me that one year when you were five or six was because Morai guilted me into it.
Rica hated it. She wanted to go back to New York. So you did.”
I breathe in slowly. “Why did we go back to Montana?”
“Ugh, it was always such a push-and-pull. Morai honestly wanted you guys there. They wanted me home. They wanted you boys close. When I tell you your grandparents love you, Ran, that’s not enough to describe the kind of love they have for you and Stevie.
You are obviously her favorite,” my dad chuckles.
“Pretty sure you have been from the moment you took your first breath. I remember her calling me just after you were born. I was stationed in Okinawa and she was crying, telling me about you, how you had a strong cry. Said you were little but already feisty. And she said she thought your name should be Ronan. After her dad.”
He smiles at the memory.
“So Rica and I argued about you three moving back to Montana. She gave in, gave it a really good shot for a couple of years, but then you obviously came back to New York. Then I moved to Montana, was stationed there for a hot minute and brought you guys back to the ranch while I was in Great Falls. But, then I was in Virginia for a few weeks and I met Penny…”
I know where this is going.
“Her husband Cade and I had been friends since basic. They had only been married a couple of years when I met her at a military function. And, fuck, I fell for her right then and there. Hard. Ran, I had never felt anything like it. The moment I laid eyes on her, I was completely lost to her.”
I nod because I get it. I get the earth-tilting clarity that comes with seeing someone and just… knowing. “I know exactly what that feels like.”
He nods like he knows who I’m talking about. But the smile dies too fast. There’s a sharp twist in my stomach as I brace for the rest.
“I couldn’t stand being away from her. So I went back to Virginia, and I had you guys move back to New York so I could still see you. Ran, I feel so bad about it all. I never realized what I was putting you through.”
Because you didn’t look. Not when I needed you to. Not when she was hurting me.
“I didn’t think about the repercussions of all the moving, not really.
And I know that if I’d paid closer attention, I would’ve seen Rica was hurting you.
But I didn’t look, because, well… things were going great for me.
Penny and I were serious. We’d talked about spending the rest of our lives together. ”
“Did you think that would include Stevie and me?” I ask flatly.
“I hoped it would. But you were old enough by then that I figured you’d make the call. Stevie was about to head to college. I knew you had your life in New York—your friends, Cat.”
My heart stutters at her name. Fuck, I’m still devastated by this girl, and I have a feeling it’ll only get worse as the years go by.
He exhales. “So I found a divorce lawyer. I saw her a couple of times before I pulled the trigger. She had everything ready and was going to file that Monday after… after Rica hurt you.”
I stare straight ahead. After she hurt me.
That’s such a gentle phrase for what she did.
I was barely alive. Actually, no. I know there were at least a few seconds where my lungs had ceased to breathe and my heart had stopped beating.
For all intents and purposes, I was gone. If it hadn’t been for Steve…
“That Friday night, I just started feeling so much fucking guilt…”
He keeps talking, and I hear the words, but they blur around the edges.
My heartbeat is too loud in my ears. He's explaining why he didn’t want to blindside my mom with the divorce, how she “sacrificed so much,” how he thought it wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair to me, either. But he didn’t know that. Not then.
“I told Rica I was coming home, that I was leaving her, that I was going to grab some stuff and then leave for Virginia for good. And, well, you know the rest of the story,” he sighs.
Yeah. I do. Too fucking well.
He swallows, hard. “When I pulled up… there were cop cars. An ambulance. I threw my car in park and just ran. A cop stopped me in the hall, but I saw you on the floor. EMTs shocking your heart.”
His voice starts to crack.
“I just fucking stood there, trying to comprehend what the fuck was going on. Rica was kneeling on the floor, Stevie was, too, blood all over himself, Zack beside him. For a moment, I thought something had happened to Stevie, too. I couldn’t understand what the hell had gone down.
” He inhales a shaky breath. “The EMTs got your heart going again, intubated you right there, and rushed you to the hospital. I rode with you. I was asking questions but they didn’t know much—just said it was blunt force trauma, suspected abuse. ”
He shakes his head, clearly ashamed. I blink, but everything in me goes still.
The way he says it yanks me back into it—the struggle for air, for breath, the panic when it didn’t come, the burning pain.
Everywhere. Inside and out. The sound of Steve’s voice shaking.
The taste of blood in my mouth. The fingers of darkness, of sweet numbness pulling me under until there was nothing but quiet peace.
“It wasn’t until Steve and Zack made it to the hospital that I began to understand what the hell had happened,” my dad says.
“And then Shane… he told me that you had confided in him, at least a little bit. He said you had told him that your mom had hit you before. That he had seen the bruises. God, my world just crumbled.”
He clears his throat, voice barely hanging on.
“The cops gave me more info at the hospital. Your surgeon took me aside and told me the scans showed signs of old fractures—injuries that had never been properly treated. Signs you’d been hurt before. Multiple times.”
I swallow hard, bile rising. I feel exposed, cracked wide open, and it’s not even my dad doing it. It’s the truth itself, dragging its fingernails down my spine.
“You were in surgery for almost eleven hours. When we finally saw you… you were unrecognizable. Your face was just… gone. Swollen, bruised. I didn’t think you’d make it. I sat with you all night, just telling you how sorry I was. Telling you I loved you.”
He pauses, swallowing the memory.
“Every day, Cat, Shane, Vada, Tori—they were all there. Taking turns. Talking to you. Holding your hand. That moment when you opened your eyes…” He breaks off.
I remember waking up and seeing them. I remember how heavy everything felt. I remember the light hurting my eyes and Cat holding my hand so gently, like I’d break if she gripped too hard. I remember thinking it was too late, that I was already broken.
“You’re so unbelievably strong, Ran. Such a fighter.”
I flinch. Not visibly, but it’s a jolt inside. I don’t feel strong. I’ve never felt strong. I felt like a ghost for months.
“But we all saw what it cost you. You weren’t the same. Your soul was just… tired. And when Dr. Seivert said you were contemplating… you were—”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. I just sit there, letting him talk. Letting it settle.
“I talked with Morai and Athair every day when you were in Montana, especially those first few months. They were so worried. Said you wouldn’t get out of bed.
That you weren’t eating. They argued with me and Doctor Seivert about how to reach you.
I kept saying to trust your therapist. But…
I guess Athair took matters into his own hands,” he chuckles softly.
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I guess he messed with his truck so you’d have to fix it. Just to get you out of bed. Out of the house. Out of your head. So you’d have a problem to solve.”
“I fucking knew it.” I laugh, but sober quickly.
“Honestly, it worked. I still remember walking outside, how fucking bright the sun was, how sharp the air felt. It really was the moment things started to shift. Before that, I was just… stuck. I can’t even explain it.
I felt like I was buried in cement. Exhausted doesn’t even cover it.
I had nothing left. Nothing mattered. Everything was too heavy.
And it’s so weird, because I never felt like that even when things were bad.
When Mom… When things were bad at home… I never felt that way.
But once it was over, once I was safe, it was like everything collapsed all at once. ”
“Because you held it together for so long, Ran,” he says gently.
“Your adrenaline kept you going. It was pure survival. That’s what happens in combat, too.
You survive the battle and only once you’re safe do you realize how badly you’re hurt.
That’s when the real fight starts. And it did for you.
Coming back from that… that’s a war in itself. And you’ve been so goddamn strong.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know about that, Dad. I’ve messed up a lot. I still get stuck in my head. Still have nightmares. Panic attacks. I broke up with Cat because I’m so fucking screwed up.”
He looks at me, eyes soft. “Kiddo, you can’t be so hard on yourself.
This healing business…” He exhales, like the words weigh more than he expected.
“Rica broke you down piece by tiny piece. For seventeen years. No one comes back from that overnight. Nobody expects you to be healed yet. I understand it takes time… trust me. I know.”
His voice dips, something knowing and wounded in it.
Something lived-in. I suddenly realize how little I know about my dad, not just as my dad, but as Frank Soult.
He’s someone with his own scars and secrets.
I can see it written all over his face. Maybe someday I’ll get the chance to find out what shaped him, what made him run, who he really is.