63. He Chose Looking Forward #2
“I hadn’t spoken to my brother for nearly two years when I got word that he’d passed,” John said.
“He’d wrapped his car around a tree when he was drunk out of his bloody mind.
And I felt like a bastard for a long time because my first thought wasn’t about him at all—I’d just prayed no one else had been hurt in the accident.
” He sighed. “I’d thought about reaching out to my brother a hundred times before he passed. Never had, though.”
“Did it ever get easier?”
“Every day got a little easier. Some days… I was back in a ditch, but Maree was there to dig me out. You’ve got to realize your brother’s addictions were all of him in the end.
Nothing you could’ve done would’ve cured him.
You couldn’t change it or control it. He needed to make those choices for himself. ”
I grunted. “All his choices hurt the people I care about.”
“Then you did the right thing protecting your family.” John smiled before he nudged his shoulder into mine. “You still seeing that psychologist?”
I nodded. “Every Wednesday.”
“Good,” John said. “Keep up with your appointments. Talking it over will help. Wanna know what you absolutely shouldn’t do?”
My ears perked up. “Ye–yeah.” John’s advice had never steered me wrong.
“Don’t pull away from Gwen. Don’t even bother trying to shoulder all of this on your own.”
“But she’s dealt with enough already—”
John raising his palm was a polite way of telling me to shush. “Now, like I say to Josie, pause it and rewind . How did you feel when Gwen shut you out?”
“Hopeless.”
“And what did you want her to do more than anything?”
“Talk to me,” I grudgingly admitted.
“There you go. She’s smart, that one. She’ll be watching you like a hawk because she’ll know you’re not right. Shutting her out will send you two back where you started.” The corner of his lip quirked. “You’ve come a long way since we first met.”
“Light-years,” I agreed. “I never want to go back there.”
“Then choose to move forward.”
I shot John a skeptical look—it couldn’t be that easy—but he simply clamped a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“Making that choice doesn’t mean life won’t be rocky,” he continued, “and it doesn’t mean you have to pretend you’re not grieving the man your brother could’ve been.
All it means is that you’re choosing to focus on what’s important when you can.
” His head jerked toward the back door. “The people in that house need you. You’ve lost a lot over the years, mate, but you have even more to live for. ”
I was on my feet and pottering around the yard with John not too long after that.
We made good headway on the back hedges, tidied up the magnolia tree, and shared some small talk about the new car we’d been working on.
Now and then, we stopped when the grief hit me so hard in the chest that I had to buckle over to catch my breath.
Gwen popped out with trays of Cat’s never-ending cooking and drinks, but before she could disappear back to the kitchen, I always snagged her hand, pulled her close, and kissed her. Not pecks. Deep, long kisses that made her blush and trip over her feet, giddy, on her way back inside.
John and I had just finished washing up and were about to flop on the couch to share a beer—well, me with my soda—when the doorbell rang.
I twisted around to glance at the front door. Relief filled my lungs first.
Liam?
Disappointment sucked the air out of them again. No, it couldn’t be him. He was allergic to ringing the doorbell.
It was ironic how my steps crawled now I knew that blond bastard wasn’t going to be on the other side of the door. Call me crazy, but I’d grown to almost like the guy, and I had a darkened room tucked away at the back of the house perfect for us to brood together in silence…
Sighing, I hauled open the door. Not Liam. The last person in the world I wanted to see was Elias, and it wasn’t even him. There was an even lower position on the list.
My mother.
She looked like the postcard of grief I remembered from my father’s funeral. Her hair was neatly pinned back, and she wore the same black dress, satin stole, and diamond necklace noosed around her throat. Could I laugh? Was it too soon?
“Tobias—I—” My mother’s eyes darted over my shoulder. Was she looking for Gwen? Was she hoping to weasel her way back into my life when she thought I was at my lowest? “May I come in?”
I folded my arms and leaned my shoulder against the doorway. “Nope.”
Her mouth formed in silent “Oh.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Did you hear the news?”
“Inflation’s up, the market’s down… Yeah…”
Her perfectly pruned eyebrows furrowed. “I meant about—”
“I know what you meant.”
“Such a tragedy,” my mother murmured.
My hand already gripped the door, ready to slam it in her face.
“Tobias!”
The shock of the images flashing on the news hurtled into me again. I steadied the shake in my hand by clutching the door tighter.
“Fuck you!” I shouted. “Tragedy? You hated Ian! You did everything you could to make sure you stayed the queen damn bee and lorded it over his mother for his whole fucked-up life!”
“I was protecting you and Tanya!”
“Bull- fucking -shit! You were protecting yourself! You never loved Dad. You loved his money!” My voice choked because I didn’t want to revisit Liam’s storytime at the club, but the tears sprang back to my eyes. “Christ, do you have any idea how Dad earned all our money?” He was a fucking monster.
My mother’s gaze disappeared to the neighbor’s yard. Fresh rage swelled in my chest.
“You fucking knew!” I spat at her. “And you did nothing! My father—” I shook my head. “Nah, fuck him. He was no father.”
“Tobias, this is the grief talking. This isn’t you.”
My mother was probably right. I wasn’t sure I’d ever cursed so much in my life.
The universe owed her a swift kick up the rear end, but I owed her nothing.
She’d never been there for me. I couldn’t even remember the last time she’d hugged me.
I was a trophy, nothing but another trinket she’d collected over the years to parade around for the ladies at the yacht club—when it suited her.
“You may be right, Mother dearest.” I bowed. “Like the gallant knight I am—”
“Oh, Tobias.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you always have to act so ridiculous?”
I ignored her and continued with my theatrics. It was the only way to prevent my fists from pounding the walls. How dare she?
“I vow to avenge every person my father ever did dirty. The list is long, Mother, so please ensure you make alternative arrangements for your living quarters henceforth.” I smiled sweetly at her.
“For I, Sir Toby, will not rest until I’ve found a way to donate everything in that godforsaken trust and made sure you don’t see another dollar for the rest of your pathetic life!
” I leaned through the doorway, my lips twisted, my voice colder than even Liam could muster.
“And if you think I’m kidding, just try me, you evil bitch. ”
My mother gasped, stumbling backward.
“Now, Mother, kindly fuck the hell off my front doorstep.”
I slammed the door in her face.
I spun on my heel to find Gwen staring at me with her eyebrows popped up and her jaw on the floor.
“Uh, yeah…” I cringed a little. “So, how much of that did you hear, doll?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone in the neighborhood heard all of it.” Gwen gave me a crooked smile and sauntered closer. “You know,” she said, wrapping her arms around my waist, “we’ll probably have to move after this.”
“Hey, if our neighbors can survive your revenge yard sale, all the bullshit with Kayleigh and Ian, and having a mafia boss’s kid permanently parked outside on surveillance, what’s a bit of swearing?”
“A bit?” Gwen laughed. “My gallant knight certainly does have a wicked tongue.”
“Yes, he does.” I grinned down at her. “Should I prove to you for the second time today just how wicked my tongue can be?”
Gwen tried to splutter a witty comeback, but her cheeks burned fire-engine red, and I tipped my head back, laughing—only for a moment. My smile faded. Was it okay to laugh so soon?
“Incoming!” a voice cried.
Cat dashed into the hall. Her face was white with shock, and she panicked, flapping a tea towel. Marnie came tumbling through the doorway behind her.
“What the—” My eyes darted everywhere. “Where’s the fire?” I was about to sprint for the kitchen when Cat screamed for me to stop. I followed the jab of her finger, pointing at the ground.
There he was. My little dude. Noah powered down the hallway on jerking, unsteady knees. The biggest smile lit up his face.
“He’s crawling!” Gwen shrieked. “Tobes! He’s crawling!”
“Hell yeah, he is!” I squatted down and started clapping him on. “Go, NoBo, go!”
Noah’s determined face had my heart swelling so big I wasn’t sure there was enough room left in my chest to hold it in.
Gwen crouched beside me. She slung her arm over my shoulder, and I heard a muffled sniffle by my ear before she kissed my neck.
She couldn’t cheer Noah on yet. She was too busy trying to hide her proud mama tears.
This was one of the moments John talked about. The ones worth everything. The ones I needed to keep fighting for. The treasured memories where Gwen was by my side as we watched our little boy blaze his trail into the world and our true family—stronger than just blood—standing strong behind us.
The only steps worth taking were forward.
We couldn’t look back.
Nothing— no one —would stop us now.