“Maybe I just wanted a drink.”
“You can get a drink anywhere, Caspian.”
“Then maybe I was there to kill you.”
“It didn’t seem like it. What were you planning to do? Stab me in the middle of a crowded room?”
“I’ve done it before.”
I was certain he had. “But that wasn’t why you were there, and we both know it.”
Silence.
“Come over tomorrow. Spend Christmas with your son.”
More silence.
“Caspian?”
“No.”
“So, you’d rather spend Christmas alone?”
Silence.
“Caspian,” I pressed. “Apologize to your son and put this behind you. He will forgive you. I know you don’t want it to be like this, but you don’t know how to fix it. Apologizing to Maverick is a good start.”
“I’m not apologizing to him.”
This man was more stubborn than his own son. “Why?”
He returned to his favorite response—silence.
“Caspian, if you wait too long, you’ll lose your chance altogether. As each day passes, Maverick becomes more bitter. Wait too long, and he’ll be indifferent to you. He won’t need an apology because he won’t care about your relationship anymore.”
Nothing.
“Maybe your behavior feels justified because you lost your wife. But remember that Maverick and Lily lost their mother. They’re hurting too. It’s not just you. I know you were lost in your despair and things got out of hand. You didn’t even realize how bad things were until recently. But if you just apologize, you can both move on from this—”
“I’m not apologizing, Arwen. Maybe my kids deserve an apology, but I’m not giving it to them. I’ve been an asshole for a long time, and a few simple words aren’t going to make a difference.”
“You’d be surprised…”
“Maverick doesn’t want me in his life, and that’s fine.”
“That’s not true…he does want you in his life. But he wants his father, not this dark tyrant that threatens to kill everyone all the time.”
He sighed into the phone.
“Why won’t you just apologize? I know you don’t want to kill me. I know you don’t want things to be this bad with Maverick. I understand you have a lot of pride, but pride is a flaw in a man, not a quality.”
He was quiet for a long time, like he would prefer silence as his response. But then he spoke, surprising me. “When Maverick faced Kamikaze for Russian roulette, I placed one of my guys in the room. His job was to make sure the bullet was in the right chamber and to make sure Maverick went first.”
All the muscles in my body tensed as my lungs stopped working. That afternoon had been one of the worst days of my life. I’d thought I could lose my husband at any moment. Every time their fingers squeezed the trigger, I was both relieved and terrified. Now that I knew Caspian been pulling the strings behind the scenes, my heart tightened all over again. “Tell him that.”
“No.”
“He should hear it from you, not me.”
“No.”
I couldn’t comprehend this kind of stubbornness. “Are you embarrassed?”
Silence.
“So, you’ll save your son’s life, you’ll convince his wife to return to him, but you won’t apologize?”
After a long pause, he responded. “Enjoy your Christmas, Arwen.” Then he hung up.
I set the phone on the bed beside me and crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t believe the conversation I’d just had. While I gained more information, I was no closer to getting these two men back together. Caspian would never apologize to his son. The only option I had was getting Maverick to go to him…but that seemed just as impossible.
We sat on the rug in front of the Christmas tree, presents tucked under the branches. It was a cold night, the kind where the frozen air pressed frost against the windows. A fire burned in the large hearth, and we shared a bottle of wine, skipping the glasses and going straight for the bottle.
Maverick leaned against the armchair and stared at me, dressed in his sweatpants with a black t-shirt. Every time he took a drink of wine, he licked his lips, and he made it look so sexy. His hair was styled, and his powerful chest stretched his t-shirt. The Christmas party was no longer on his mind, and he was calm and carefree. He must have stopped thinking about his father.
“Open mine first.” I grabbed the medium-sized box and handed it to him. Wrapped in white paper with holly leaves on the front, it was a present I’d wrapped myself. Abigail would have done it for me, but it seemed a lot more special if I did it myself.
He took the box and examined it, as if he was trying to guess what it was before he ripped into it. “Hmm…lingerie?”
I rolled my eyes. “No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Why would I get you lingerie for Christmas? You’re beautiful, but I don’t think it’d look good on you.”
“But it would look perfect on you.” He shook the box, and the sound of the material inside made it obvious it was a piece of clothing. “Ooh…that’s a good sign.”