Fuck, I hate hearing that from him, even if he’s absolutely right and trying to be reassuring.
The statement curdles my stomach.
There’s no good reason for it to be that way, but dammit, it is.
Apparently, I’ll never be over it in my own head.
No matter how pleasant, how smart, or how reassuring he tries to be, it can’t change the past.
Nothing can.
I’m still staring at the only senior officer who was on that trip that upended my life.
“I just wanted to give you a heads-up before anyone else, Troy. Production is critical and you’ve always been too loyal to be left out of the loop. I’ll check in at the first chance, once I know how this new line might require changes in logistics and sourcing. For now, I’m signing off for another meeting. Keep me updated. If we need to Zoom again, schedule it through Katelyn.”
He logs off with a smile before I can end it.
I make a note to remind Kate I won’t be available for Zoom calls anytime soon.
Damn him, he’s right, though.
Change is a constant, and a fucking terrible one.
Once, there was a time when Troy was my best friend, back before I had to man up and focus on work and parenting without letting a personal apocalypse consume me.
Once, we were inseparable. Just two guys with easy laughs and mile-high dreams of making this tired old company something new and glamorous and special. But two things happened when Aster told me she was pregnant—first I saw my whole life flash before my eyes. Then I decided to own it and grow up.
Troy never did. Not even after he witnessed the freight train that came crashing through my life.
The last time we talked like friends, he was a guest in my Kona house. And I had no idea that my family was about to be pulverized forever.
Ten Years Ago
Destiny looks so adorable in her little sundress.
She’s cradling a large doll in her arms, the weight of it bouncing wildly in her chubby arms.
“Shh! Shhhhhh!” She rocks it back and forth like a baby that’s barely bigger than her. “I love you,” she whispers and kisses its head.
“Hey, baby girl. That’s my line.” I scoop my daughter up from the floor with a giggle falling out of her and hold her to my chest. “I love you more.”
“Daddy!” she squeals as I show her no doll will ever compare to my love for her.
I kiss her on the head the same way she kissed the doll.
She giggles again.
“Jesus, Cole. Don’t get her so worked up. She’s been bouncing off the walls all day.” Aster rolls over on the couch, practically boneless, her head half-buried under the pillow.
Ever since we came to Kona, my wife has had Dess to look after twenty-four seven. The last nanny—the one we hired expressly for the Kona trip—only stayed for two weeks, which boggles my mind.
How many nannies would give up a free trip to Hawaii?
Evidently the kind who aren’t resistant to being chewed out by my wife.
It’s the depression talking, I know. I’ve had years to develop a thick skin when she goes off on her moody tirades.
The drugs and therapists and natural remedies we’ve spent a small fortune on have helped, but nothing totally cures her storms when they strike.
I’ve learned how to let them roll off my shoulders.
Regrettably, the nannies haven’t.
Thankfully, she’s never turned that attitude on our daughter. I just hate that it robs Aster away from key moments when she could be enjoying our little girl, her laughter and play and sweetness.
Dess cuddles up to me, a perfectly content bundle.
How can anyone be annoyed by this? My baby girl seemed calm the whole day, but I had to take several meetings. Maybe Aster saw something I missed in her sensitive state, or maybe—
A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. I go answer it with Destiny perched on my hip.
“Hey, Troy. Come on in.”
He’s damn near sunburned, looking like a college kid roughing it with his red skin and overgrown beard. His pearly white teeth beam at me as he walks in with a bulging duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Thanks a million for letting me crash here, man. Beats the hell out of huffing it back to the sardine box room on the coffee farm.”
“No problem. Your tub flooded, you said? Christ.” I shake my head. “The hotel’s usually a decent stay. Make sure you let HR know when you get home so they can start scouting new places to send my employees when we make these trips. We could use a backup. I know how tight it gets in the peak season. Still, I don’t want my people having to deal with that after a long flight. It’s nothing to have you staying here with us, but of course I can’t open our place to everybody.”