Chapter 26
Riley
Aloud bang rouses me from what can only be described as a restless slumber, jolting me up to a sitting position and causing my head to spin and throb.
Groaning, I reach a hand up to rub at my pounding temples in a vain effort to find some relief when a gruff voice says, “Well, good morning, Sunshine.”
Steph is my sunshine.
“Huh?” I blink my bleary eyes a few times to clear them, glancing around, surprised to find that I’m in the back office at Aroma’s.
A harsh chuckle draws my attention, and I squint up at Bobby standing arms crossed in the doorway, his craggy face a mixture of amusement and concern.
The cheap hollow-core door still rattles in its frame, clearly having been swung open with enough force to hit the wall and answering the question of what had awoken me.
“Tied one on last night, didja?” he asks.
Last night.
Fuck.
Was it just last night?
With Bobby’s words, the memory of all that was revealed at that disaster of a dinner comes flooding back to me. I flop dejectedly back onto the worn leather couch where I’d apparently passed out after escaping my mother’s house.
Sighing, I close my eyes. “Guess you could say that.”
Bobby moves further into the room, his feet jostling the collection of empty beer bottles strewn across the carpet and causing me to flinch at the sound.
It’s followed by the familiar squeak and a groan of the old leather desk chair as he pulls it out and settles into it with a grunt.
I crack an eye, meeting his gaze across the desk.
“Couldn’t at least have drunk the stuff we got on tap?” He eyes me pointedly. “These bottles ain’t cheap, ya know.”
I rub my face, then force myself to sit up, leaning forward with my elbows braced on my knees. “Sorry. I know. I’ll pay for them.”
Another grunt. “How ’bout ya just tell me what happened?”
“Don’t know if I should,” I mumble, staring down at the floor.
“Well, if you’re gonna crash on my couch and drink my beer, I think I deserve some kinda explanation.”
I nod, silently thinking through what exactly I should tell him. It’s not like I’ve had much time to even process it what with the drinking and all, but who the fuck could blame me after that revelation. I mean, holy shit, I have— I have—
“I have a son,” I blurt, finishing the outrageous thought out loud.
Bobby is silent for a long moment, and when I glance up to meet his eyes once more, he looks stunned.
“I, uh …” he clears his throat. “I assume you didn’t know about this before last night.”
My throat works on a swallow. “Fuck, no.”
“Huh.”
“Yeah.”
“Who … uh …”
“Steph,” I say, understanding what he’d been trying to ask.
“The girl you came back for?”
I nod.
“Jesus.”
“Yeah,” I repeat.
There’s a long silence where I can hear my pulse pounding in my temples.
“Wasn’t gonna tell ya?” Bobby asks, finally.
“Doesn’t seem that way.” The pain of that realization hits anew, stabbing sharply in my chest. Her avoidance. The betrayal. “I basically put the pieces together myself at dinner last night, and she didn’t deny it when I confronted her.”
This grunt is an outraged one, and despite my devastation, I’m mildly amused by the realization that I’ve learned to discern his various noises.
“She’s got two boys, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“So … the oldest?”
I swallow and nod. “Matt. Uh, Matthew … Jamison.” The last name is bitter on my tongue. It should be Walker, goddammit. And fuck if that thought doesn’t cause me to sit up straight in my seat, shocked at the wave of certainty and possessiveness that washes over me.
Holy shit.
But … he’s mine, after all. The boy is mine. Just like his mother. They’re both supposed to be mine.
Bobby watches my face with interest as these thoughts no doubt flit across my features.
Eventually, he leans over and pats me on the knee.
“Let me get ya some water and somethin’ ta eat, and we’ll talk this all through.
” He pauses, eyeing me some more. “Some aspirin, too, I think. Then you can start from the beginnin’ and we’ll see if we can’t sort this all out. ”
I snort. “Sort it out?”
“What you’re gonna do.”
“I know what I’m gonna do.”
“Do ya, now?”
“I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dad.”
Despite the shock having yet to wear off, I do know I want that. I want to know my son.
Jesus, how crazy is that to say?
My son.
Bobby nods. “Won’t be easy, though. This kid doesn’t know you from Adam.”
“I know.”
I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. I have so much to make up for. Yet another person to add to the list of people I need to—
“And … his mother?”
Steph. Yeah, it’s true, I don’t know what to do about Steph.
The fact that she’s kept this from me, that she’s continued to keep this from me since my return—since our talk on the ridge—it’s …
heartbreaking. But at the same time, I see everything so clearly now.
The pain, the worry, the fear I’d sometimes glimpsed on her face.
Why she’s been so reluctant, so hot and cold with me, despite seemingly wanting to give me a second chance.
It hurts.
It really goddamn hurts that she didn’t tell me.
Pisses me right the fuck off, actually.
But then … who’ve I got to blame for that but myself? I’m the one who pushed her away, a little voice in my head reminds me. When exactly did I expect her to let me know? When I was in prison? Or when I got out but continued to hide from everyone who knew and loved me?
She still could have reached out to me, another voice argues. It’s not like I disappeared off the face of the earth. I stayed in touch with my mom. She could have found me, could have gotten me a message if she’d tried.
But why would she after the way I treated her? I didn’t reach out to her at any point, now, did I?
And who would want an ex-con as their baby’s father?
She didn’t know that, the other voice says.
True. But I do. And whether Steph knew about my conviction or not, she knew I was messed up. I can admit to myself that I wasn’t in a place to be a dad back then.
But you are now.
Am I?
Yes.
Speaking of now, that’s the part that hurts the most. I’ve been back for months. I’ve been trying to show her who I am.
I thought I had.
I thought she could see I’ve changed. That we can fix things. I thought after that kiss we were finally making progress.
That was the day for revealing secrets.
I’d spilled my guts to her, and still, she’d kept this from me. Seemingly had every intention of continuing to keep it from me.
Do you really think a few months of flirting can make up for all the pain that you’ve caused? All the years you were away?
That damn little voice is starting to get on my nerves, even if it does make some valid points.
Fuck.
Seems like there’s plenty of blame to go around. And a lot I still need to work out before I even attempt to speak to either of them.
I sigh.
“Thought so,” Bobby says quietly and moves to the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.