Every Time I Fall (Orchid Valley 3)

“I sure hope that shit doesn’t haunt you anymore,” I say. “You’ve more than proven yourself.”

He studies me for a long time like he’s trying to figure out how to say what he needs to. “I really try.”

“So Milo knew about you? You acted like you’ve met before.”

He nods. “He’s an okay kid, and I help him out when I can. He just can’t see where I’m coming from about the old man. He was always tracking me down when my father was in trouble. Not long after Kace and I started our business, my father contacted me and said he needed money for Milo, that Milo had been given this great opportunity to travel abroad with this international STEM program that’d supposedly give him access to any engineering college he wanted after he graduated. I made the mistake of believing him. Maybe he was a shit father for me, but I liked the idea of him being a good dad for Milo. And he had a whole plan on how he’d pay me back. It seemed legit.” He swallows hard, and I can see it hurts his pride to tell this story.

“You don’t need to be ashamed for being a good brother.”

“But I wasn’t. I was an idiot for believing anything that came out of my old man’s mouth. Never mind that I didn’t have the kind of money he was asking for. I borrowed it from our company—and Kace and I hit a slump after that and almost lost the business because of it.”

My heart squeezes. “I didn’t even know you and Kace were struggling.”

He shrugs. “You were at school, and we weren’t looking for sympathy. Amy was actually the one who gave us the money we needed for the capital to take on a new project and get afloat again.”

“He never paid you back?”

“No. I paid the business back, of course, but I felt like an idiot for believing Dad’s lies.” Dean leans back in the chair, pulling me with him until my head’s resting on his chest. “I know it probably seems cold to not want to see him before he dies, but I can’t handle the thought of feeling the way he made me feel as a kid. Helpless and unwanted. Not good enough.” His arms tighten around me like a vise. “I don’t want to be reminded that he’s my blood.”

“You get to make this choice,” I say against his chest. “No one else. If you don’t want to go, there’s no one who can make you. But for what it’s worth, you might not feel that way if you went. You’re not the kid you used to be. You’re a grown man with a successful business and friends who love you. You don’t owe him anything, but if it might help you to say goodbye, I think you should.”

His warm fingers stroke circles on my back. “I’ll think about it.” He’s quiet for a long time, and the songs of the crickets and katydids fill my ears before he says, “When he came crawling back for more money, he tried to convince me I was just like him—chasing money and a better life.” Dean swallows. “And in some ways, that’s true, but I don’t chase it the way he does. I work. And I’d never walk out on my family like he did. That’s why I don’t have long-term relationships with women I’m not head over heels for. I’ve gotta make sure I get it right, because I won’t be like him.”

I can feel his heart racing beneath my cheek, and I want to cry. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you’ll be a great husband and father when you’re ready.”

“I can’t change who my father is, but I can promise you I am nothing like him. I’ll never, ever be like him. If I doubted that, I wouldn’t let myself be with you.”

I pull back and stare at him for a long time, my heart both full and aching for him. “I know that, Dean.” I press my palm to his chest, right over the heart he just opened for me. “I know who you are.”

His eyes glisten in the patio lights. I could stare at him all night—wondering at the strength and vulnerability of this amazing man—but I curl into his chest instead, hoping I can offer him just a little comfort.

We’re quiet for a long time before he speaks again. “If I go see him, will you come with me?”

“Of course.” I’d go anywhere with you.

* * *

Dean

Once again, our schedules keep us apart more than I’d like, but at least Abbi stayed at my place on Tuesday and Wednesday night, and holding her while she sleeps centers me. We haven’t talked about my dad since my little meltdown on the deck, but it feels good to have it out there—to have at least broached the subject of my family. Of the kind of father I grew up with and the kind I’m determined to be.