up, starting to leave, but I blurt out exactly what I’m thinking before he can disappear. “But you are the reason he’s hurting.”
Alistair stops, flinching as if I hit him, but I shake my head. “I don’t mean what happened with Zara. I mean…talk to your son. He’s so afraid of being vulnerable because he doesn’t know how. He’s afraid if he ever lets down his guard, he’ll disappoint you.”
I’m not hoping this will fix Nash and everything will work out. There is so much more Nash needs before I would even consider going back into that mess, but I sincerely hope Alistair listens to me. I hope Nash doesn’t live with this pain forever.
“Thanks,” he mumbles before sending me a casual wave and walking out of the room.
34
Hanna doesn’t come out of her guest house, at least not to see me. When my dad’s helicopter lands on the tarmac, she emerges, and I have a feeling it might be because this is her last day here. Like the last pile of dirt on my coffin.
This is really it for me. If I couldn’t make it work by now, there’s no hope for me. Maybe Ellis was right. Maybe I don’t know how to be happy. Maybe I don’t want to be.
Sitting alone in my office on a Saturday, I watch as Zara greets Hanna, and it’s not as happy as it was a couple of weeks ago. Everyone looks a little sadder these days, or maybe that’s just me.
Then I watch as my dad pulls Harper’s little baby carrier out of the back and takes her toward the house. My house.
You’d think living on an island would mean peace and privacy, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. Instead, I have them in my business literally all the time. When the girls glance toward the office, I don’t move. After a few seconds, they follow Alistair to the house. No one comes to get me, which is better. With any luck, I can avoid them all day.
Hanna will leave, and I don’t have to bother with goodbyes or the feelings that come along with them.
There’s only a few minutes alone before I watch my father cross the grounds toward the office. As he pulls open the door, I do my best to look busy in hopes he won’t stay long.
“You don’t think I’ve tried to avoid life with work before?” he asks as he slips through the door.
“I’m not avoiding anything.”
“Oh, because you don’t have a life?” he asks.
“Something like that.”
He’s walking casually around the office, and I fight against the tic in my jaw as I wait for him to leave. “I saw Ellis yesterday,” he says and it’s probably the only thing he could say that could actually make me falter. And he definitely catches the way my eyes flash up to his face.
The office falls silent as we glare at each other. “He thought maybe it would be wise of me to listen to you. That maybe you want to talk to me.”
I scoff. I’m not a fucking teenager, and I have nothing to say to him. So, I shake my head and give my attention back to my emails.
His gaze freezes on my face, and the tension strings out between us, making it hard to breathe. Finally, he settles against the desk and rubs a hand over his face. When I glance up at him, I’m nearly broken by the despondent expression on his face, with wide, tired eyes and a turned down mouth.
“You gotta give me something here, Nash. It’s been five fucking years I’ve been trying everything I can think of to help you, and I already lost one kid. I can’t lose another. Just come back to me.”
Moisture pools in his eyes, and I swallow the knives in my throat.
“If you’re looking for permission to be happy, to move on, you don’t need it. You don’t need to keep punishing yourself for what happened to Preston. If you want someone to blame, then for fuck’s sake, blame me, son. Just…just stop torturing yourself.”
Something breaks, and my chest quakes as I try to breathe through it. Then, the words just come out because if I just say them, then I can’t take them back and I can stop holding them in and letting them fester.
“I was with Ellis in Amsterdam. For nine months, we were together…as in…he was my boyfriend. And I—” Fuck, this is hard. “I didn’t tell you.