32. Xander
Chapter 32
Xander
" W e don't have to do this tonight if you don't want to," I said again, watching Blake's face carefully as she adjusted Amelia's blanket in the car seat.
The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass and distant rain.
Blake smiled at me sadly, her eyes reflecting the fading light of dusk.
"It's okay. I actually think being around everyone might be nice."
I pulled the truck up in front of Delaney and Trace's house and killed the engine. We sat there for a minute, neither of us moving to leave. Through the windows, I could see the warm glow of lights and the silhouettes of people moving around inside. The contrast between their obvious happiness and the weight sitting on our shoulders was almost too much to bear.
"Susan said we should get in contact with Madison. Do you think that's a good idea?" Blake asked, staring at Amelia as she did. The baby was awake but quiet, her eyes wide as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. "She told me not to. She asked me not to try and find her."
I unfastened my seatbelt and turned to face Blake, pushing her pink locks away from her face. Her skin was soft beneath my fingertips, and I let my hand linger against her cheek. "I think when Madison said that, she didn't realize the difficulty we'd have with keeping Amelia. If we explained, if we told her the risk of Amelia going to a stranger..."
Blake was shaking her head already, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Let's not think about this for a couple of hours. Let's just have a nice meal with our friends and enjoy ourselves."
I squeezed her hand in support and then climbed out of the truck, opening the back door to retrieve Amelia's car seat. The plastic handle was cool against my palm as I carefully lifted it out, making sure not to jostle her too much. The height of the truck made getting her in and out so much easier. I needed to buy this thing off Booker or actually get my own. Blake could do with her own car as well, but we didn't need anything this big as a second vehicle.
My lips twitched at the thought. Domesticated bliss was really seeping deep inside me now. It just felt so natural, but I needed to try and rein it in a bit. The relationship between Blake and I was new, and I still fully intended to sweep her off her feet. I just had to figure out how exactly I was supposed to do that.
The front door to Delaney's flew open as we approached, and Cade barreled out of the house at full speed, impacting with Blake with an "oof" as he wrapped his arms around her. His dark hair was tousled, and his shoelaces were untied, trailing behind him.
"I missed you so much," he mumbled against her stomach. "You didn't come back."
"I kinda moved out, bud," Blake said, her fingers combing through his hair.
"But you were supposed to come back and see me!" he protested, looking up at her with indignant eyes.
"I’m sorry, you’re right. We’ve just been dealing with a lot. I wasn't going to stay away forever. How about tomorrow I pick you up from school, and we go and get cookies from the bakery together?" she offered, her smile warm and genuine.
"They'll be sold out," he said, but even I could tell he was faking his sulking at this point. His lips twitched at the corners, betraying his excitement.
"I can go in first thing and get Marie to save you some," I told him, adjusting my grip on Amelia's car seat. "And I have it on good authority that the diner makes the best milkshakes you've probably ever tasted."
Cade looked at me with wide eyes, and then back at Blake. "Why didn't anyone tell us there were milkshakes?"
"I dunno, bud," she narrowed her eyes at me playfully. "I feel like they've been holding out on us."
"I agree."
The pair of them were right back to being an inseparable duo, and it was adorable. The sight of them together made my chest warm in a way I wasn't entirely familiar with.
Blake wrapped an arm around Cade's shoulders, and we all went inside, only to find everyone sitting around the kitchen pretending to look casual. Trace and Delaney were at the stove, stirring something that smelled like heaven. Booker and Reece sat at the table, their heads bent close together. Dex was perched on a counter, swinging his legs like a kid.
"What?" Blake asked suspiciously as she started to take off her jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door. "You've got that look on your face like when you hide broccoli in my food." She glared at Delaney, who just shrugged and then quickly turned around when she couldn't keep a straight face.
I stared at Dex. He'd be the first to break; he always was. Under my scrutiny, he shuffled awkwardly in his seat, his gaze darting around the room like he was looking for an escape.
"I told you he'd turn against me," he suddenly blurted out as he darted off the counter and then dashed around the table to hide behind Booker. His hands gripped Booker's shoulders as he peered over at me.
"Are you actually using me as a human shield right now?" Booker laughed, reaching up to swat at Dex's hands.
"You're wide enough that I'm thoroughly protected." Dex's grin was impish as he ducked to avoid Booker's swatting hands.
"Did you just call me fat?!" Booker gasped in horror, his face a comical mask of outrage.
Dex poked him in the side. "I dunno, Booky Bear, but there's definitely a bit more pudding around this middle than there used to be."
Reece burst out laughing as Booker went to grab Dex, who darted away again, cackling about pudding. I watched the madness unfold in front of me in bemusement, unable to keep the smile from my face. The normalcy of it all was a balm after the stress of the past few days.
"I'm thoroughly lost with what's happening right now. Maybe Delaney went mushroom picking and..." I trailed off, raising an eyebrow.
"Not in front of smaller ears," Delaney blurted out, throwing a pointed look at Cade, who was watching the chaos with delighted eyes.
"I need that story later," Blake loudly whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes dancing with amusement.
I nodded in solidarity. This was nice. The feeling of having someone in my corner, even if it was just against the madness of a family gathering. Blake's shoulder brushed against mine as she leaned closer, and I resisted the urge to wrap my arm around her waist.
"So, spill," I said, fixing my glare on Booker and trying to pull up that doctor voice I used on my patients who were hiding something. I crossed my arms over my chest and did my best imitation of sternness.
Booker just laughed at me, shaking his head. Dex actually looked like he was about to break, his mouth opening and closing as he fought against the urge to confess. But then Blake pulled an ace out that I hadn't even considered.
"I'll get you a donut as well as cookies," she told Cade, her voice a stage whisper.
"Aunty Reece saw you kissing through the window, and now they're planning your wedding," he said with a shrug, his expression completely unrepentant. He looked up at Blake with adoring eyes, clearly pleased with himself for delivering this piece of information.
Well, there went that secret. I felt my face heat up, not with embarrassment but with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness. Let them know. Let everyone know that Blake was mine.
"Betrayer!" Trace gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he'd been mortally wounded.
Cade shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling. "Blake’s my girl."
Wait, was I going to have to compete with a ten-year-old? The thought was so absurd that I couldn't help but laugh, breaking the tension in my shoulders I hadn't even realized was there.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you all, but you didn’t see what you think you saw,” Blake said so confidently that I almost believed her as well.
Reece squinted at her suspiciously and I could tell she was getting ready to pepper us with questions.
Thankfully, Amelia chose that point to make her presence known, letting out a squeal from her car seat. Everyone's attention immediately shifted to the baby, cooing and fussing over her as I carefully unbuckled her. She blinked up at me with those big eyes that always made my heart melt, her tiny hands reaching for my face.
"Hello, little bug," I murmured, lifting her against my chest. I took a deep breath of her scent of baby powder and the lavender lotion Blake had rubbed into her skin after her bath. It was starting to get addictive.
Dinner was a chaotic affair, with everyone talking over each other, passing dishes, and stealing bites from each other's plates. It felt like family, in a way that my childhood dinners never had. I was just starting to relax when the front door opened again, and a figure stepped into the kitchen.
Jasper Farrington.
My father.
I should have known he was coming from the empty seat across the table.
I felt my body go rigid, my grip on my fork tightening until my knuckles turned white. The jovial atmosphere of moments before evaporated like morning dew under a harsh sun.
"Sorry I'm late," Jasper said, his voice hesitant as he took in the sudden stillness of the room. He looked older than I remembered, the lines around his eyes more pronounced, his hair grayer at the temples.
"Dad, come on in," Trace said, rising to greet him. "We've just started. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it or we would have waited."
I watched as my youngest brother embraced our father, a gesture that still felt foreign to me. Booker offered a nod, more reserved but not hostile. I couldn't bring myself to do even that much.
Under the table, Blake's hand found mine, her fingers threading through mine in silent support. I squeezed back, grateful for her presence.
Jasper took the empty seat across from me, his eyes meeting mine briefly before darting away. I could feel the weight of his unspoken apologies, his hesitation, his hope. It sat between us like a physical thing, impossible to ignore but equally impossible to address.
I was immediately on edge, my jaw tight, my responses clipped when Jasper tried to draw me into conversation. I knew that Booker and Trace were trying to find a way to have a relationship with him, but I wasn't sure it was what I wanted. I didn't know if I could forgive my father for everything that had happened. I wholly blamed him for the fact that Gage left home and never came back, cutting off his brothers as well as their parents. I blamed him for it all. He knew the person our mother was, it was impossible that he didn’t. And yet still he left us with her.
Blake was trying her best to keep the conversation going when I got frosty with Jasper, deftly changing subjects and asking questions that pulled attention away from the tension between us. Her hand never left mine under the table, a constant anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside me.
Dex was telling us about how work had been picking up at his garage since the town meeting. His eyes were bright with excitement as he detailed his plans. "I'm trying to think of ways to diversify the business and was thinking about running some general maintenance classes for people. You know, basic stuff like how to change your oil, replace a tire, that kind of thing."
"That sounds like a great idea," Delaney said, passing a bowl of mashed potatoes toward him.
"You could be taking business away from yourself if you start teaching people to fix their own cars," Jasper pointed out, his tone thoughtful rather than critical.
I bristled anyway, ready to snap at him, but Dex just shrugged. "Now that I'm a mechanic down, I don't have the people to do all the work. Honestly, if I could take the general maintenance things off our books, it would free us up for bigger value jobs."
"Why are you down a mechanic?" Trace asked, reaching for the bread basket.
"Brett took his family and moved a few towns over for work," Dex explained. "Better pay, better school system. Can't blame them, really."
Delaney sighed, her expression turning wistful. "It's sad that the people in town aren't seeing the benefit yet from the tourism picking up. "Anyway," Delaney said, redirecting the conversation, "I want to talk about something happier. How are things going with Amelia?"
Blake and I exchanged glances, neither of us wanting to dampen the mood. But the question hung in the air, demanding an answer.
"Not so good, actually," I said, trying to keep my voice light. I briefly explained the trouble we were having with DCFS, careful to dance around the specifics of my drinking. I didn't want to talk about it in front of my father, didn't want to give him that piece of myself.
"That's rough," Trace said, his brow furrowed in concern. "It might not be a terrible idea to find Madison. Could you got through the Court system as a private adoption? That would take the matter out of DCFS hands, wouldn't it?"
"It might," Blake admitted, her fingers playing with the stem of her water glass. "But Madison was pretty clear about not wanting to be found."
"You said she was in Paris, yes? I have some connections who could help locate her," Jasper offered, leaning forward slightly. "And I know a few good family law attorneys who could guide you through the adoption process."
"No, thanks," I said flatly, the words coming out harsher than I'd intended. The table fell silent, and I could feel everyone's eyes on me.
Jasper didn't flinch, though the hurt was visible in his eyes. He took a deep breath, setting down his fork with careful precision. "I know I was a terrible father, and apologizing isn't even remotely close to making it up to you. I wasn't there. I was... hiding in my shame, and you boys took the brunt of your mother's anger. It was all my fault." His voice cracked slightly, and he paused, collecting himself.
Strangely, it was the way his hands started to shake that started to get through to me. The physical sign of how strongly he felt about what had happened. But was it enough?
"I... I had an affair, and it broke something inside of Regina. She could never look at me the same again, even when I swore that I'd ended things. I shouldn't have turned away from our family. I don't even know why I did. It should have made me fight harder for you boys."
The table went quiet. I felt so angry that I didn't know what to say. I'd always suspected this was what had happened. It didn't take a genius to figure out what could cause the complete collapse of a marriage like our parents'. But the thing was, I never remembered a time when my mother had been softer with us. My earliest memories were of her harsh treatment and indifferent attitude.
"When?" Booker asked gruffly, breaking the silence.
"It was just after Trace was born," Jasper admitted, his shoulders slumping.
He looked so ashamed, and for a moment, I actually understood a part of my father that I never thought I would. I could understand needing to find something to escape a situation you felt stuck in. And that was what our family had been for my father—the place where he was stuck. The acknowledgment of that similarity between us made me even angrier, a hot knot of fury twisting in my stomach.
"Who was she?" Trace asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"Caroline." A flicker of a smile came across Jasper's face, a softening around his eyes that I'd never seen before. "We met when I was surveying Blue Point Bay for potential expansion projects. She was a firecracker, fighting me at every turn. Didn't want an outsider buying up any dockside properties for commercial purposes. And she won, too. I think that was what made me fall in love with her. She had so much fire and life inside of her."
"You loved her?" I asked in surprise, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Jasper looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then it was like he made a decision, and he relaxed, finally opening up to his family. "You have to understand that it was a different time when your mother and I got married. It wasn't always about finding the person you couldn't live without. Sometimes it was just about finding someone that could potentially be a sensible match. And that's what your mother was at the time. We both came from wealthy families. She wanted the prestige, and I needed a wife to be at home and raise a family. Or at least that's what I thought I wanted. The reality of our situation soon became very apparent, but we'd made a commitment, and then you boys came along. I thought staying for you was doing the right thing... and I couldn't have been more wrong."
The raw honesty in his voice caught me off guard. This wasn't the evasive, emotionally distant father I remembered. This was a man owning his mistakes, laying bare his regrets. It was disorienting, like finding out the monster under your bed was just a shadow all along.
"So what happened to Caroline?" Delaney asked, looking genuinely intrigued. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, eyes bright with curiosity.
Jasper shrugged, a gesture that seemed to carry the weight of decades of regret. "I don't know. I broke things off. Explained that I was married and I couldn't leave my wife. It wasn't that I'd tried to hide it from her. I think a part of her always knew. We just had this whirlwind romance that felt like we were in our own little world, and everything outside of us just didn't exist. But it was wrong, and in the end, all I did was hurt everyone I cared about."
"And even after all of that, Regina still won't sign the divorce papers?" Reece asked, her voice gentle but probing.
Jasper sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "She's making it as difficult as possible. Her latest demands include a percentage of any future developments associated with the Farrington name, including trying to claim she deserves compensation for the rehabilitation center."
Booker's head snapped up. "That's ridiculous. The ranch is solely my property. Grandfather left it directly to me, not to you or Regina. She has absolutely no claim to it."
"I know," Jasper said heavily. "The legal situation is clear, but that's not stopping her from trying to delay everything.
You boys not accepting my investment has made it easier.
I have absolutely no ties to the project now.
But she knows how much this rehabilitation project means to all of you.
She's using the threat of litigation as leverage—her way of continuing to punish me."
"She can't touch the ranch," Booker stated firmly. "But I don't appreciate her trying to drag our project into your divorce proceedings."
"I'm handling it," Jasper assured him. "I've offered concessions on other properties we own jointly. My attorney thinks she'll eventually accept the deal once she realizes the ranch is completely off-limits.
She just wants to drag this out as long as possible to make me suffer.
"
I was trying to figure out how I felt about this. It was a long time ago, and there was nothing anyone could do to change what had already happened. Being stuck in the past, clinging to everyone’s mistakes was frankly exhausting. I’d made my own mistakes and I was asking for my own brand of forgiveness. Was I really going to be a hypocrite and not be willing to offer any of it in return?
All I had left to really figure out was if I wanted to try and fix my broken family, and as I looked around the table at my brothers and their partners, I realized that I did. That what we'd started to build here was something worth fighting for.
Amelia, who had been dozing in Blake's arms, stirred and let out a small cry. Blake instinctively began to sway, humming softly under her breath. The baby settled almost immediately, her tiny hand clutching the fabric of Blake's shirt. The sight of them together, so natural and perfect, made my heart ache. This was my family now. This was what I was fighting for.
"I know I have no right to call myself a father to any of you," Jasper continued, his voice quiet but steady. "But if there is anything I can do to help, for any of you, I will always do whatever I can without question. No strings attached. I'll always be here if you need me."
I looked at Blake, and she reached under the table and squeezed my hand. I should accept my father's offer; I knew I should. But there was something about leaning on the man who did nothing but let me down as a kid that just felt a step too far. The words stuck in my throat, trapped behind years of hurt and resentment.
"Thank you," I finally managed, the words feeling inadequate but sincere. "I'll... think about it."
It wasn't forgiveness, not yet. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I'd built around my heart. And as I looked at Blake beside me, at Amelia in her arms, I knew that sometimes you had to tear down walls to build something stronger in their place. Wasn’t that what I’d spent the last year doing?
Maybe it was time to stop letting the past dictate my future. Maybe it was time to focus on the family I was building now, rather than the one that had failed me then. Because if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that I’d never make the same mistakes my father had made. I would never let Blake or Amelia doubt for a second that they were the center of my world.
And that, I realized with sudden clarity, was the true gift my father had given me—a perfect example of what not to be. A blueprint for all the ways to fail a family, so that I could ensure I never walked the same path.
As conversation gradually resumed around the table, lighter now, filled with laughter and the comfortable hum of people who cared about each other, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. Not because everything was fixed—it wasn't, and might never be—but because I finally understood that it didn't have to be.
Family wasn't about perfection. It was about showing up, day after day. It was about choosing each other, even when it was hard. Especially when it was hard.
And as Blake leaned against me, her pink hair brushing my shoulder, Amelia sleeping peacefully in her arms, I made that choice. I chose them. I would always choose them.