Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jamie
Bold, boisterous laughter roused me from the most explicit dream of my life.
God, I wanted to return to that blissful state, to finish what had begun—or let it finish me off. I wasn’t picky. But as I lay half-awake, I couldn’t recall the details. The harder I tried, the vaguer the memory became, until it was nothing more than an aching need.
Then that rich, deep baritone laugh hit me again. With each punch of Eric’s exuberance, a zing of pleasure coursed through me, reminding me of what I’d been dreaming about.
Eric. His voice must’ve infiltrated my subconscious, bringing me to the brink of ecstasy with nothing but the sound of him and my imagination.
For a moment, I contemplated finishing what the dream had started. But then I heard Hunter’s voice. My sexual frustration faded as my motherly instincts kicked in.
Hunter was here. How could I have forgotten?
I’d spent half the night pacing, waiting for his arrival, stressing over how to introduce him to the man who had me so tied in knots I momentarily forgot about my own child.
He was out there, laughing with Eric. It sounded like they were having a party for two, and I was suddenly curious about their interaction. Had Eric made the same kind of impression on my son that he had on me?
But before I could pull myself out of bed, my phone rang.
The chirpy ringtone sent a jolt of fear through me. I knew it wasn’t anyone I wanted to hear from.
My gut told me it was bad news.
When I answered on the third ring, Nurse Judy’s voice confirmed my fears. “Your dad has taken a turn for the worse. A prolonged decline is still possible, but the doctor’s assessment is the most likely scenario.”
And the prognosis was clear. He had a day, at most.
A day.
I’d been bracing for his passing all week but knowing it was imminent left me struggling to accept it. With an expiration date stamped on my father’s life, I felt desperate for more time.
One day?
“I’ll be right there.” I promised, pulling on my pants and rummaging for a clean shirt.
I rushed into the kitchen, wearing yesterday’s jeans and a faded radio station T-shirt from my teens, to find Eric and Hunter chatting over the remnants of breakfast. It was the exact scene I’d been trying to visualize only moments ago. Now, it barely registered.
Distraught and unsure what to do next, I made the awkward situation impossible. I kissed Eric. Arms around his neck. Hands in his hair. My mouth on his. And Hunter right there.
No introductions. Though, they’d clearly taken care of that themselves. No explanations. I didn’t have any good ones, anyway. No acknowledgment of what I’d done.
Hours passed in my father’s hospital room before it finally sank in.
I’d kissed Eric. In front of my son.
Heat crawled up my neck. I was an emotional decision-maker. Feel first, think later. It had led to impulsive choices and rushed resolutions before. But this?
My stomach twisted.
Leaving Hunter behind with Eric hadn’t been my smartest decision. Still smarter than the kiss, but in the moment, it had felt like the only viable option. I didn’t know what waited for me in my father’s room, how bad it might be. I wasn’t prepared to walk Hunter into something that dark.
But asking Eric to care for my child? That was different. Intimate in a way I hadn’t examined. I worried I’d crossed a boundary I couldn’t see. Worse, that I’d set my son up for confusion and hurt once we returned to Toronto.
What if I’d created a bond between Hunter and a man who, in a matter of days, would go back to being a stranger?
I’d told Eric I felt lost after my mom and sister died. I thought that was the deepest that grief had taken me. But sitting under the hum of hospital lights, everything felt disturbingly unbalanced. Tilted.
Nothing in my life looked the way it used to. Not my family. Not my future.
Not even me.
With fear overwhelming me, my instinct was to retreat to the bubble of security I knew best—the world where only Hunter and I mattered. Where, if I stayed locked in denial long enough, nothing could harm us.
Instead of calling Eric, I texted Hunter.
Grandpa seems okay. You should come to the hospital as soon as possible.
Between the lines, I was begging for my son to return to my side, praying he’d be safe when everything went to hell.
With a big, painful sigh, Dad roused from sleep. “Why’d you stay away so long, James? Missed you.”
For so many years, I’d convinced myself he was heartless. That alcohol had corroded his soul. But the truth was, he’d used it to hide from his emotions.
He’d run away, just like me.
Lost for words, I could only stare at him, my anxiety replaced by heartbreak and tears.
“I know I’m a bastard…I know I don’t deserve…anything. Not from you. I’m your father. Still. Just wanted to hear from you…to know you’re okay. Hoped I hadn’t fucked you up too bad.” His voice wavered, eyes closed, and my heart cracked at his raw, regretful words.
His honesty slashed a hole in my heart and fractured the dark perception I’d held for so long.
He may have been drifting in and out of awareness, but it was clear he’d been affected by our separation. Maybe even as much as me.
Had I been blind to it before?
Or were the guilt and resentment I felt simply lies I’d told myself? I’d promised Eric to stop pretending, but maybe I needed to make the same promise to myself. If I didn’t face reality, I couldn’t handle it when it hit me.
“Dad.” My voice cracked with emotion.
“Just promise you’ll give your boy a family. Real family. Love. Happiness.”
“That’s all I’ve ever wanted for him. Love and happiness.”
“Family, James. Family.” He finished on a wheeze.
I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep. What did family even mean to him?
There wasn’t a single relative left. My grandparents were gone, and my parents were only children. A great-aunt might exist, but even if I found her, what kind of family would that form for my son?
Did my father expect me to reunite with Dylan despite our differences? Would that make a family? It made no sense for him to ask me to sacrifice my happiness when it would hurt Hunter.
Did he really believe I could magically build a new family? He’d lived in a solitary confinement of his own making. Why did he think I could succeed when he’d so desperately failed?
But he was right.
Family was what had been missing from our tiny existence. Family was the bond my son needed for the happy life I’d always wanted for him.
Family was what I had to figure out.
But first, I needed to find out where my child was. My text to him had gone unanswered, as had my three follow-ups.
Worry gnawed at me as I imagined what that might mean.
Was he with Eric, having a good time? Were they down at the waterfront, where Eric and I had played just two days ago? Or maybe they were hiking my favorite trail.
I needed to push aside my doubts and call Eric. I’d left my child in his care. I trusted him more than Hunter’s father, and almost more than I trusted myself.
But trust wasn’t the issue.
It was fear.
A big, healthy dose of fear.
I was afraid of the situation I’d created, forming a relationship with a man who was far too earnest for a temporary fling. I was apprehensive about bringing this steadfast man into my son’s life. Not because he didn’t deserve it, but because I was terrified I’d screw it all up.
And I wouldn’t be the only one hurt in the end.