CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Ledger
I toy with the corners of the paper. The Fields logo is emblazoned across the top of the lavender-colored paper, but it’s the short note scrawled in Asher’s penmanship and the second piece of paper in my other hand that I can’t stop staring at.
Ledger,
You asked for no more deception. No more lying by omission. Enclosed is what I found while cleaning out Pop’s things. I didn’t tell you originally because I didn’t want to hurt you further, and the past can’t be undone . . . but you deserve to know. I’m sorry.
-Asher
I drop the stationery and focus on the check. On my father’s unmistakable penmanship. In his attempt to buy off her grandfather to keep Asher away from me.
To be unscrupulous in business is one thing.
To be it when it comes to your own children is unforgivable.
Even knowing now that he apologized to me for this, for his actions, does nothing to lessen the sting seeing this causes.
My idol.
My biggest example of who not to be.
I’m not certain how long I stare at the check, but when my phone rings and Ford is on the other end of the line, everything—Asher leaving, my dad’s actions, the wrongs that can never be righted—hits me harder than ever.
I almost don’t answer. But I do. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong?” Two words are all Ford needs to say to have me closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Nothing. Why?” I lie.
“You’re full of shit. Callahan’s here too.”
“Hey,” Callahan says. “Something’s wrong. We can both feel it.” Goddamn triplet voodoo. “What are you not telling us, Ledge?”
I stare at the check and question myself and my previous decision not to tell them about Dad. About his deception. About his lies.
And even now, I stand by it. We’re all finally healing. All coming out of the darkness we each fell into when he died. I still can’t bring myself to ruin the image they have of him in their eyes.
If there’s one thing my father taught me that I’ll still choose to hold on to, it’s to bear the brunt of a burden for the good of everyone else.
I just hope Asher lets me do the same for her.
Asher.
God, I fucking miss her.
“Ledge?” Callahan asks.
“She left.” The dam of silence breaks and it feels so fucking good to tell someone. “She left, and I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ford asks. “It being a fling and all?” His tone mocks me.
“Do you think we believed for a goddamn second the two of you were a fling?” Callahan asks.
“You made puppy-dog eyes at her all night. Not once did you take your eyes off her to look at Cindy Dempsey’s cleavage—and believe me, it was so noticeably displayed that Sutton couldn’t keep her eyes off it. ”
I smile. And it feels fucking good to for the first time all week. Callahan and I may have had our differences in the past, but it’s weird for us to have switched roles for the moment. For him to be the one trying to take care of me.
“Shit. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Ford asks.
“I told her I loved her . . . and she left anyway,” I murmur.
“Then what the fuck are you doing sitting in your office?” Callahan shouts. “Find her. Fight for her. Make her an offer she can’t refuse.”
I snort at the notion . . . and yet, isn’t that what I want? Her? Forever? As mine?
“Fuck.” I sigh the word out and both brothers laugh.
“Ding. Ding. Ding,” Ford says. “I do believe the light bulb just went off. You owe me one hundred, Cal.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask.
“We bet on how long it would be before you asked her to marry you. He said three months. I said one.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, but my smile only grows wider as hope begins to swell in my chest from an idea that’s slowly forming. “You two . . .”
“Please know that it’s taking everything I have to bite my tongue right now and not razz the fucking shit out of you over this,” Callahan says as I chuckle.
“I’m showing you mercy, brother, but it’s coming.
There’s no way Mr. I’m-Not-Falling-in-Love falls in love and gets away with it scot-free from us. ”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“Hey, Ledge?”
“Yeah?”
“Go get your lavender girl. You’ve waited fifteen years. I don’t think you should waste another minute,” Ford says. Or Callahan. I’m not sure which one, but it doesn’t fucking matter.
I already have more important things on my mind.