He stared into his coffee mug for a while, the liquid matching the color of his eyes. He brought it to his lips and took a long drink before he answered. “I told him my mother wasn’t dead. He’s the one’s who’s dead.”
I ignored my toast because his words were more powerful than my appetite. I dropped the jam-smeared bread back on the tray and gave him my full attention. “What did he say to that?”
“Nothing. He walked off.”
It was a brilliant thing for Maverick to say, a shockingly accurate description of his father. His mother was gone, but her spirit kept Maverick alive. She continued to give him hope and inspiration. His father was the one who changed so much he was hardly recognizable. “I wonder how he felt about that.”
He shrugged. “He would never tell me.”
I picked up the tray and moved it aside so I could sit directly beside Maverick. My pounding headache would have to be ignored so this conversation could continue. There was nothing that haunted him more than his complicated relationship with his father. “I think your father is sad, lonely, and lost…and he doesn’t know what to do about it. Killing Ramon didn’t make him feel better, and he knows killing Ramon’s wife wouldn’t have made a difference either. But he needs something to focus on because he has nothing left. He misses you and Lily, but he doesn’t know how to fix that relationship. He doesn’t know where to start.”
“You give him too much credit.”
“No. I’m not saying he’s a good man. I’m just saying he’s very mentally ill and doesn’t know how to fix it.”
Maverick kept looking into his mug.
“I know you don’t want to, and you shouldn’t even have to, but I think you should reach out to him…give him an olive branch.”
“I hope that’s a joke. You know how many olive branches I’ve extended?”
“I know… But try again.”
He shook his head. “I need to kill him. I’ll always look over my shoulder until I know he’s gone.”
“There’s another option…”
“I don’t think there is, Arwen.” He set his mug on the nightstand. “I’ve tried fixing my relationship with my father many times. I’ve proven my loyalty a million times over. But he doesn’t care about those instances. He only cares about my betrayals.”
It was wrong for me to inject my opinion into something so complicated. Maverick had been hurt by this abusive relationship so many times that his emotions were a wide spectrum of pain. I couldn’t understand everything he’d been through because this had been going on long before we met. “I understand why you’re angry at him. I understand why you even hate him. But I think he was a man deeply in love who lost his wife. His mind snapped, and it was easier to be hateful than feel all the pain. When he looks at you and Lily, he probably sees your mother…and that’s hard for him.”
“Even if that’s true, that’s supposed to be okay?”
“No. Not at all. I’m just explaining his behavior. Now that he’s had enough time to cope, to kill Ramon, he’s probably at a dead end. His survival strategies don’t work anymore, and now he’s forced to face reality. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. Instead, he guided me back to you. That speaks volumes.”
He was quiet.
“And when I spoke to him at the rehab center, I think that was a wake-up call for him too. He witnessed me working to repair your relationship, not tear it apart, and I risked my safety to do it. He’s never said it, but I can tell he respects me for my actions.”
Maverick had nothing to say.
“I think you should try one more time, Maverick.”
“If he can crash my Christmas party, he can make a phone call. He can stop by the house for a conversation. You’re acting like he needs help facilitating this, but that’s ridiculous. He can do anything he wants—if he wants to do it.”
“Maybe he has too much pride—”
“Then he needs to suck it up.” The temperature of the room rose slightly, matching the palpable rage exuding from his core. The conversation was over the second he snapped. “He’s done enough damage. It’s time he starts fixing it.”
“I just think—”
“This is over.” He shut down the conversation with his tone, the vein in his forehead starting to protrude underneath the skin. He kept his eyes straight ahead, rage and indifference mixed together within his gaze. His gentle breaths turned to deep inhales of air. Slowly, he calmed himself once more, letting the silence absorb the hostility that filled the room just seconds ago.
Since he wasn’t in the mood, I didn’t press further. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
He grabbed the coffee mug off the nightstand. “No.”
“You don’t spend the holidays with Lily?”