He wouldn’t have had to go to therapy from the trauma.
At the graveside, I pushed my hands into my pockets. I couldn’t see much in the pale glow of the moonshine. The lights of the house didn’t reach all the way up here, but it was enough. I didn’t need to see the graves either to know what was there.
If I could do it all over again, I would change so much. I would’ve worked at my relationship with Declan. I would’ve comforted the boy instead of withdrawing into my own world, then jumping headlong into every exciting opportunity that came up, just to get away and forget.
Love was never meant to hurt that badly. Being with Miranda had made me feel so good. Loved. Every day had been beautiful with her. Even when there were arguments, which were few and far between, the days still had a glow about them because we were in love.
I’d never for one second thought I would lose her the way I had. No one could’ve hurt any more than I had after she’d drawn her last breath, taking everything good in me with her. All that had been left in her wake was an empty shell of a man trying to move on without a heart.
“I fucked up, my love,” I said softly. “I’ve done everything wrong since I lost you. I almost lost our son too, but he’s twice the man I am and forgave me. I’m not sure I should be forgiven for the way I neglected him. I know you wouldn’t have been happy about that.”
She would’ve been thoroughly disappointed in the decisions I’d made.
“I’m trying to change, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”
I had to change if I wanted to prove I was a fit father. I couldn’t be the same reckless Charles anymore. I had a baby on the way.
“I want the chance to do the right thing. I can do that with this baby. Give her everything she needs. Not just the material things I provided for Declan but the emotional side too.”
It took me a while to realize that something had changed. The immense sadness I usually felt whenever I thought about Miranda was nothing but a dull ache. The anger I usually associated with her death had taken a back seat.
To what?
The reason I was here right now. August Long held my concern. I was still worried about how I’d found him when I visited. He’d looked like hell. Defeated, and I never wanted him to look like that again.
“I wish I had the answers for the future,” I murmured, staring up at the millions of stars in the sky. I’d give anything to float away among the celestial bodies and forget all the confusion and questions I had.
I wished the stars would give me a sign to tell me what was the right thing to do. Should I stay married to Poppy, just to be a father to her daughter? Or perhaps I should take up everyone’s suggestion and adopt another kid?
And what should I do about August? I’d caught him staring at my ass in the kitchen, and his gaze had challenged me to say something. I’d wanted to call him out on it, but did I really want to have a conversation with August about him wanting me? What good would that do anyway?
I spent a few more minutes at the graveside, then made my way back to the house. I’d check up on August one more time. Then I’d call a cab to pick me up and drop me home. The farther I was away from him, the better.
As I entered the house, the low rumble of August’s voice drifted in the air. I followed it to the kitchen. The closer I got, the clearer his words became.
“—particularly bad this time. I don’t know why?”
He sounded so frustrated. I hesitated. I didn’t want to interrupt his conversation with his father. I had every intention to wait in the living room for him to finish his conversation, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.
“I don’t trust myself as a Dom anymore, Declan.”
Dom? August was a Dom? I’d never had the desire to be in that sort of dynamic with anyone. I didn’t fully understand it either, but I knew that Declan had connections to that community and that he and Owen were into all sorts of kinky stuff.
I’d never asked for details about how that worked, though. Owen seemed