Come to Me Softly (Closer to You #2)(65)
Author: A.L. Jackson

A flash of regret hit me. Yeah, I’d hidden Jared. For many years. Maybe I should have given my dad some sort of warning. But the truth was, I’d kept Jared a secret for this very reason, because of the way my father had treated Jared during that time. Within our house, he’d made Jared’s name a dirty word. Nothing but taboo.

My father’s chest trembled with the admission. “It was wrong, and I knew it. But when you showed up with him at Thanksgiving dinner and I saw the way you two were looking at each other, it took five seconds for that same fear to take hold of me again. All I could think was this guy was going to hurt my baby girl. Then when you announced you were pregnant, it flipped my own switch. I lost it. I couldn’t control how angry I was at him. At you,” he emphasized. “Even at your mother. I knew she had to know something was going on between the two of you and she’d never once let on. I felt like a fool . . . like a lesser part of the family. Like I’d been shunned from all the important pieces of my daughter’s life.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. When he looked back at me, his green eyes were pleading. “I regret that reaction so much, Aly. I handled it about the worst way I could. And again, I was laying all the blame on Jared. All of my reactions have always been controlled by my own fears and insecurities. Feeling threatened by the things I can’t control. It’s a personal flaw I’ve had to deal with all my life. I know it. All I can do is ask you to forgive me for it.”

My lids dropped closed as I absorbed my father’s admission. Slowly, I opened them. “Dad, I don’t blame you for being disappointed or worried.” The words cracked over the sob stuck in my throat. “I completely get it. But I don’t think you understand the kind of guilt Jared carries over his mother. If you did, you could never have said those words to him. It’s not me who you owe an apology to.” Lines creased my brows and my head tilted in supplication. “You owe one to Jared.”

My father blew a breath toward the sky and spoke toward the night. “I already gave him one, Aly.”

Confusion took me aback. “What?”

My dad heaved a sigh. “I texted him this afternoon and asked him to meet me when he got off work. I figured I needed to ask him for forgiveness before I could ask you for it.”

A torrent of relief swept through me. I realized how burdened I’d felt by this dispute with my dad. I hated it. Hated that he thought badly of the single most important person in my life, hated that distrust had wedged a separation between us.

I felt the distance collapse.

With a step forward, I narrowed the gap between us. “Thank you.” It tripped from my mouth, fast and hard.

In surrender, he pulled his thumbs back from his jeans in a conceding shrug. “I was wrong. I can admit when I am.” His green eyes flashed in the porch light. “It doesn’t mean I’m not worried about you. I talked with Jared for a long time this afternoon. And you already said it all. I don’t understand the kind of guilt Jared carries over his mother. At all. I can’t fathom that grief. And I honestly don’t know him anymore. But I’m betting you do, and that guilt was pretty glaring when I talked to him. That’s a lot of baggage to deal with, Aly.” It slid from him as a warning.

I bristled, but I forced my tongue silent.

A gust of wind rushed in, pressing along the desert floor. I hugged myself against the sudden cold. Dead leaves whipped up from beneath the barren tree that protected my home, beat and stirred.

I lifted my chin for him to continue, trying to ignore the swell of defensiveness I felt at his admonition. As if he wasn’t saying anything I didn’t know. As if I didn’t know the risk. As if Jared wasn’t worth every bit of it.

He lifted his hand in a telling gesture to the house behind me.

To my sanctuary. My home. Somehow I felt as if I was standing in guard of it. Defending what Jared had built for us with his bare hands inside.

My father’s tone shifted, laced with remorse. “It was also pretty glaring that he loves you, Aly. I can’t question that or his intentions with you anymore. I believe him when he says he’s doing everything he can to make this work and he’d do anything to protect you.” He chuckled a little, though it seemed completely lacking in humor. In discomfort, he scratched at his jaw. “Apparently Jared and I have something in common, after all.”

His voice lowered, although his expression hardened. He pinned me with the intensity of it. He ground his teeth. “I just have to know you’re happy. Really happy. That this is truly what you want and you’re not doing it because you think it’s the right thing to do.”

I clutched both my hands to my chest. I just wanted to find a way to make my father understand. But I realized that was impossible. Because what I felt for Jared went beyond understanding, deeper than the rational. I explained myself the best way I knew how. “Dad . . .”

My voice quavered. “I love him so much. With all my heart. I always have,” I admitted quietly. “I would do anything . . . give up anything to be with him.” Tenderly, my hand slanted over my belly. “And this baby . . . I love it more than anything in this world.” As much as Jared. But different. In a capacity I couldn’t quite grasp. “Never in my life have I been happier than I am now.”

Sadness swirled through the depths of my father’s eyes before acceptance took hold. “That’s all I really needed to know.” He chanced a tentative step forward. And for the first time in months, my dad hugged me. “I’m sorry, Aly. Please tell me you’ll forgive me for the way I’ve treated you.”

“How could I not?” I whispered into the collar of his shirt, clutching him to me. All my resentment floated away. In its place, I just felt grateful. The only thing I’d ever wanted was for my family to be whole.

Jared missing from it had left such a stark void. And he completed me in ways no one else could.

Now, with my father coming back to me, everything would finally be perfect.

Pulling away, I wiped the wetness from under my eyes. “Would you like to come inside?”

Slowly, my father gave me one resolute nod. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

I fumbled with the latch and opened the door.

Mom, Aug, and Christopher lingered around the island in the kitchen, catching up. Out of the corner of her eye, Mom cast me a knowing glance.

She’d been telling me everything would turn out okay.

And she’d been right.