The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,82

and by the time I’d calmed down enough, it was too late.” Garth blew out a long, slow breath. “She died in a car accident about two months after she left.”

Pain, swift and unrelenting, stabbed at Rory’s chest. “And you never told me?”

Garth shrugged, regret evident in the slump of his shoulders. “What would’ve been the point? She’d left, regardless, and you were struggling enough. I didn’t want to add to your burden.”

“Dad, I’m twenty-seven. Did it ever enter your head to tell me this at some point when I grew up?”

Garth shrugged again, and it infuriated him.

“You stopped asking about her after a while, so I figured you didn’t care . . . You were so young when she left, you wouldn’t have remembered her.”

Damn his father for being right. He could’ve pushed for answers when he was older, but he’d settled for nursing his resentment toward his father.

“You should’ve told me.”

He’d never seen his father look so grave as he nodded. “You’re probably right, but it’s yet another mistake in a long list of mistakes I’ve made with you.”

Rory resisted the urge to glance at the floor. Had hell just frozen over?

“I’ve been a crap father.” His mouth turned down. “After your mother died, I spent a lot of time second-guessing myself. Had I done enough? Had I pushed her away unwittingly? Should I have seen the signs of her wanting to leave earlier? Should I have gone after her sooner? Would she have come back if I’d gone to her and begged? I neglected you, and when I tried to rectify that, it was too late; you stared at me like I was a stranger.” He shook his head. “And when you spoke, you reminded me so much of her it killed me.”

When his father eyeballed him, Rory could hardly believe the depth of pain he glimpsed.

“So I stupidly treated you the same way I had her. I missed her so much, and you were a constant reminder of how I’d screwed up, so I withdrew from you too, and let you down in the same way I did your mother.”

Regret clogged Rory’s throat for all the wasted years. Why hadn’t his father opened up to him about all this in the past?

“I—I don’t know what to say.”

Not that he wanted to speak, because whenever he was overemotional, he stuttered, and this was one of those times.

“It’s a lot to take in, Son, but I want you to know I’m sorry for being a lousy dad. I hope you’ll do a better job than me.”

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, but for the first time in forever, Rory didn’t feel bitter or angry or resentful. His father may have screwed up in so many ways, but the past couldn’t be undone. The best he could hope for was a better relationship moving forward. And he had to admit, a huge part of him was relieved his father hadn’t looked down on him because of his stutter but had withdrawn from him out of love for his mother.

“I appreciate you telling me the truth,” Rory finally said to break the silence.

“Long overdue.” Garth cleared his throat again. “Anyway, let’s leave all this sentimentality alone and tell me about your new job. Landing a hosting role is a big step up for you. Uh . . . it would involve a lot of speaking?”

Pleased that his father had the insight to recognize what a big deal it was for him to speak in front of a camera, Rory nodded. “I’ve been receiving dialect coaching to land the role. It’s helped a lot. Most of it will be reading off a cue, with minimal ad-libbing, so I should be all right.”

Admiration glinted in his father’s eyes. “You’ve never let anything stop you. Now tell me about this Samira.”

Rory didn’t want to tell his father anything, because he was too used to him tearing down his dreams, so he settled for a pared-down version of his relationship.

“She’s Melbourne-born but lives in LA, has for the last decade. Runs a thriving physical therapy practice, is working here for six months in a state-of-the-art facility her cousin runs in South Wharf. Her mom’s Indian, her dad’s American, and she’s beautiful.”

Rory glimpsed respect in his father’s steady stare. “I hope I get to meet her sometime soon.”

Try never, but Rory kept that gem to himself. He didn’t want anything tainting his fledgling relationship with Samira, let alone a cynical