The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (89)
I nodded since that lump was so thick that words couldn’t squeeze past it. I glanced away and pressed the pads of my fingers to the corners of my burning eyes.
No one was keeping me there. I checked myself in, and I could check myself out. And if Kyle would have asked me to leave with him, I would have.
But he didn’t.
“Come on, Dad.” Josh pulled Kyle’s arm.
“Okay, buddy.”
I swallowed hard, but I still couldn’t breathe. With a brave smile, I hugged him, but I kept it brief and quickly stepped back, staring at my feet while sliding my hands into my back pockets.
“Let’s go, Dad.”
Don’t move.
Not a blink.
Not a single breath.
Kyle let Josh pull him a few feet closer to the door.
Don’t move.
Not a blink.
Not a single breath.
A tear escaped.
And then another. But I kept my head down so he wouldn’t see them.
Just as holding it in became unbearable, I slowly lifted my head, hoping they were gone, but I was met with Kyle taking several long strides back to me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me.
I released a sob, gripping his jacket. When the kiss ended, he dragged his lips along my cheek to my ear and whispered, “I fell hard too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
PETER GABRIEL, “IN YOUR EYES”
Kyle
I made sure Josh got fastened in the back before I climbed into the driver’s seat of my truck and closed the door. Then I started the engine to pull out of the rehab center’s visitor parking. My hand wrapped around the gearshift, and I clenched my teeth, every muscle in my body tensing to hold it together. But all I saw was her face covered in tears, her pleading bloodshot eyes, and her quivering lower lip. And I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and take her away from all the pain.
Releasing the gearshift, I fisted my hand at my mouth as my eyes pinched shut, and my body shook with emotion. Everything ached bone-deep, and my heart didn’t beat right. It had been the worst three weeks of my life. And that said a lot, considering the mother of my child abandoned us.
But I felt like I had abandoned Eve and didn’t know how to make it right. As much as I wanted to be everything she needed, I wasn’t. I failed her, like I had failed Josh. And when we walked into the rehab center, and I saw her for the first time since carrying her unconscious body back to the house, her light didn’t shine as bright.
I let that happen.
And for that, I felt undeserving of her and her love.
Had I been her father, I would have wanted me as far away from her as possible too.
“Daddy?” Josh whispered as I tried to make it stop.
The pain.
The tears.
The waves of body-racking agony.
His seat belt clicked when he released it, and he climbed over the seat to get to me, wrapping his arms around my neck. “Don’t cry,” he said.
And fuck … if that didn’t make me cry even harder.
“Do you have a boo-boo?” he asked.
I found a smile for him as I wiped my eyes. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Right here.” I pressed the heel of my hand to my chest and rubbed it.
Josh rested one hand on my arm and his other on the steering wheel to bend forward and kiss the spot I just rubbed. “There. All better.” He hugged me again.
I wrapped him in my arms and closed my eyes. “Yeah. All better.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHICAGO, “HARD TO SAY I’M SORRY”
Eve
I didn’t want my parents to visit me because I was mad at them, but I had the emotional capacity to be equally mad at them for not visiting me.
It was complicated.
And not giving Kyle a piece of pumpkin pie was petty, and not what Jesus would have done.
But they were my transportation back to Devil’s Head on the day I walked out the front door of the rehabilitation clinic, so I was about as happy to see them as a cab driver.
“How are you, darling?” Dad asked before hugging me.
“Cured like a ham. Let’s go,” I said, giving my mom a brief hug as well.
My therapist said it didn’t serve me to hold grudges when I left rehab. I needed to think of my relationships starting with a clean slate. While I did owe my parents an apology for my wrongdoings, they weren’t innocent in the fallout either. But I knew they would never admit any wrongdoing, making it a little harder for me to be the bigger person and offer an unconditional apology.
“It seemed like a nice place,” Mom said, making small talk on the way home.
I stared out the window with the side of my head resting against it. “Yeah. A real resort. I’ll have to keep it in mind for a honeymoon destination when I get married.”
“I see you didn’t lose your sense of humor,” she replied.
“I just got it back. When I checked in thirty days ago, I had to leave all prescription meds and sharp objects in a bag, along with all funny business. Just got it back thirty minutes ago.”
My parents exchanged a glance. I couldn’t see my mom’s face, but my dad had a tiny smirk.
I sighed and kept my head to the window. I didn’t physically need a drink. No jitters, cold sweats, or racing pulse. But emotionally, the pre-rehab version of me would have been anxious to get home and have a couple drinks to take my mind off Kyle moving.