It’d never been so hard to talk to him before. I was better at communicating than he was, but I was the one stumped in that moment. It wasn’t stubbornness. It was just really hard to talk about this.
But he continued to wait…and wait. He somehow knew it was difficult for me to get my words together, which was a struggle he faced every single day of his life. Sometimes, someone would say something to him, and he literally took an entire minute to respond.
“Thank you…” I could barely say a couple words without the tears coming into my eyes, without the emotions becoming so raw that I couldn’t control them any longer. “For not giving up on me…”
His expression immediately changed, his hardness gone and his eyes soft like I was a boy all over again. The moisture glistened in his eyes in a nanosecond, and he took a deep breath like it was all he could do not to fall apart. “I never will, son.”
I hadn’t cried as a grown man since Allen…since Catherine. But now I was in tears, coming apart in front of my father. “I’m sorry about everything I said… I didn’t mean it.”
“I know.” He came closer to me, and his hands gripped my arms as he stood in front of me, our eyes level because we were the same height. “I’m sorry too.”
“I’ve never been mad at you. Just mad that you won’t let me get my way—I see that now.”
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if my kids weren’t mad at me sometimes.” With tears in his eyes, he inhaled a deep breath as he watched me let everything out, let me admit my fears out loud. His arms wrapped around me, and he brought me into his chest, his hand cupping the back of my head. He pressed a kiss to my temple and squeezed me tightly, loving me like I was still the boy he’d dropped off for the first day of kindergarten and cried in his car afterward. “I love you.”
I held on to him and rested my chin on his shoulder. “I love you too, Dad.” I inhaled a deep breath and silenced my tears. “I’m so sorry for what I said—”
“Shh, it’s forgotten.”
“I shouldn’t have talked to you like that—”
“You weren’t yourself.” He pulled back and looked at me again, his eyes still wet. “I know how that feels, when something terrible happens and you completely lose yourself. You say things you don’t mean, you push people away, you’re so distressed that you’ve lost control of your own faculties. Forgive yourself. I do.”
My father gave me more than I deserved. I remembered every word I’d said to him, the way I’d leaned over him and screamed in his face, and I was grateful my father’s love was stronger than his resentment.
“We’re going to get you back to who you used to be, alright?”
I nodded.
“You’ve got all of us to help you. This is a new beginning. The rest of your life starts now, at this moment, today.”
“Okay.”
He pulled his hands from my arms and gave me an emotional smile, his eyes soft and full of joy. “I’m so proud of you.”
Stunned, I just stared at him, unsure why I deserved praise at the lowest time of my life.
“It takes a strong man to pick himself back up and try again.”
“I’ve got a long way to go, Dad.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re trying—and that’s all that matters.”
17
Sicily
I knew something had changed the second I saw Cleo in the morning.
She strutted into the lobby with poise and grace—and with a smile. She walked to her desk, the joy in her eyes, and took a seat.
I knew exactly where Dex went after our conversation in the bar. It made me feel good to know I might have had something to do with that, that maybe I said something that made him realize his family just loved him. I stared at her from my seat at my desk, feeling the warmth in my body at her happiness. I loved this version of her much more.
She turned in her chair and faced me, her slender legs crossed, her heels shiny like they were brand-new. “You’re fired.”
Instead of freaking out that I’d just lost my job, I smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
After the workday was over, I walked with Cleo into her residence so we could get to work on my new job. Our schedules were so busy that we couldn’t squeeze in our preparations during the workday, so I agreed to meet her after hours.
Her husband worked in the kitchen, steam rising from the stove, the smell of dinner noticeable. When he saw us walk inside, he paused what he was doing and walked over to his wife first, in his sweatpants and a t-shirt, his body just as defined as I imagined it would be. His strong arms wrapped around her, and he kissed her as he pulled her in close, the deep affection he felt for this woman obvious in every little thing he did.