Chapter 29 #2
Climbing down the ladder, my feet land on hot sand. I lean in, brushing a quick kiss across Hunter’s cheek before lacing our fingers together. Without a word, I tug him toward a quieter part of the beach, zig-zagging through the maze of sunbathers.
Hunter studies me with a worried crease between his brows. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say automatically, my thumb stroking the side of his palm to settle him more than myself. “I just wanted to tell you I have other lunch plans today, so I can’t join you.”
His expression falters. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry,” I add quickly.
He drops my hand, eyes darting away. “You don’t have to apologize. You can do whatever you want. We’re not exclusive.”
I blink at him. “Wait, what?”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “You just told me you have a lunch date, right?”
A disbelieving laugh slips out of me. “Not a date, you idiot. Stephen wants to meet with me.”
Hunter’s eyes widen. “Stephen—as in your dad?”
“Yeah.” My chest feels heavy as I sigh. “He showed up at the house this morning unannounced. Said if I hear him out, he’ll leave us alone for good.”
“Jesus.” Hunter rubs my bicep gently. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” I mutter, though it feels like a lie.
He offers a soft smile. “Wanna come over after work?”
“Please,” I say, not caring if I sound needy.
“I’ll cook us dinner.”
“You’re the best,” I tell him, stealing a swift kiss from his lips.
“Good luck,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me. His hug melts the icy dread in my stomach, replacing it with something warm and steady. I let myself linger in it, burying my nose in his hair, breathing in the calming clean scent of his shampoo.
But the moment can’t last. I force myself to pull away, brushing a hand over his shoulder before turning back toward the parking lot. “I’ll see you later.”
He nods, his eyes following me until the sand under my feet transitions into asphalt. I trudge to my truck parked at the edge of the lot. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I crank the key, the sputtering engine grounding me as I blast the air conditioning.
As I drive toward the café, my hands sweat against the wheel. For years I’ve told myself I didn’t care about Stephen, that I was better off without him. But now, I can’t help but wonder what he could possibly have to say after all this time.
When the wooden sign of the café finally appears ahead, my stomach twists. I pull into the lot, kill the engine, and just sit there a moment, staring at the door like it’s a finish line I’m not sure I’m ready to cross.
But I need to do this for Maddie. I need to make sure he stays far away from her.
Inhaling a deep breath, I step out of the truck and walk through the door. The café smells like coffee, sourdough bread, and cinnamon muffins. Mismatched chairs and pastel blue walls give it a cozy charm.
Stephen’s already there, tucked into a corner booth. There’s food at the table and two cups of water with half-melted ice. His head is bent over his phone, but he looks up when I clear my throat.
“Oh! Hi, Mason.” He fumbles a smile and gestures to the seat across from him. “Please, sit. I know you’re probably in a rush to get back to work, so I already ordered for you. I hope you like turkey clubs. The waitress said it’s their specialty.”
I slide into the booth, wiping my sweaty palms on my T-shirt. “Sure. That’s fine.”
His eyes flick over me in a quick once-over. “You look great, by the way. You’ve really grown up,” he says, but his compliments feel empty, like he’s trying too hard. “Might have to steal your workout routine.”
He laughs at his own joke, thin and awkward. I don’t.
“Well, I was a sick kid the last time you saw me,” I say evenly. “Lost ten pounds before I was diagnosed.”
His face tightens. “Right. I didn’t mean—”
“We didn’t come here to talk about me,” I cut him off sharply. “Just say what you want to say.”
Stephen shifts in his seat, folding the menu shut. For a moment, he just stares at his hands.
Finally, he clears his throat. “When your mom got pregnant with you, we were only seventeen. We were just kids. Dumb kids,” he begins, voice low.
“Our parents pressured us to get married, and we thought we could handle it. Thought we could force it to work. We tried for years. We even had another baby, thinking maybe… maybe that would fix things.” His eyes flick up, guilt written in the lines around them. “But it didn’t.”
I sit rigid, arms crossed. He keeps going.
“Your mom was depressed. Drinking too much. And I… I wasn’t any better. Her habits rubbed off on me. It was a toxic environment, and I couldn’t handle it. Then you got sick, and Maddie was still a baby. I was overwhelmed.”
A bitter laugh bursts from me before I can stop it. “Sorry my diabetes was such a burden for you.”
His head snaps up. “That’s not what I’m saying.
” His voice cracks, urgent now. “I was immature and scared of responsibility. My relationship with your mom—it was poison. I started making worse and worse choices. Drugs. Disappearing at night. I was destroying myself, and I didn’t want to drag you and Maddie down with me. So I left.”
I shake my head, throat stinging. “That’s your excuse? You left to protect me?”
“I know it was the wrong decision,” he says quickly, words tumbling out.
“I regretted it every single day, but I’m not that man anymore.
I’ve been sober for years. I’ve got a steady job working as a mechanic, and I bought a house.
I’ve built my life back up. I can’t undo the past, Mason.
I know it’s too late for me to be your dad. You’re grown now. You don’t need me.”
He swallows, and for the first time his voice steadies. “But Maddie does. She’s still young,” he continues. “I want to be there for her in a way I wasn’t for you.”
My tongue slowly works over my teeth. “Did you know Mom tried to kill herself two years ago?”
Stephen blinks. “No.”
“I had to drop out of college and move back home to help raise Maddie,” I say bitterly. “If you wanted to step up and be a father, that would’ve been a great time to do so.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes dropping as he picks at the crust of his sandwich. “If I would’ve known—”
“You would’ve known if you’d stayed in touch with us.”
“I tried,” he insists. “After you went off to college, I reached out, but you never answered my texts or calls.”
I scoff. “So this is my fault?”
“No! Just—goddamn it.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “You’re twisting my words.” He exhales hard, then mutters quietly to himself, “My lawyer was right. I shouldn’t have come here.”
The word freezes me. “You got a lawyer?”
He hesitates, lips pursed like he’s choosing between the truth and something gentler. “Yes.”
“To take Maddie away from me?” My voice spikes across the café, loud enough to turn a few heads, but I don’t care.
“No, Mason. That’s not what I’m trying to do,” Stephen says quickly, leaning forward, eyes pleading. “I’m trying to help you. Maddie shouldn’t be your full responsibility after your mom passes. You should be in college, building your own life, not—”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me,” I snarl, shoving back from the table. The chair legs screech across the tile, making everyone in the café glance our way.
I yank my wallet from my pocket, throw a crumpled wad of cash onto the table, and push my untouched sandwich aside.
Stephen reaches out a hand, but I step back before he can touch me.
“I’ll see you in court, asshole.”
Without waiting for his response, I storm out into blinding daylight, the door clanging shut behind me.