Should have, yes. And yes, I regret that I didn’t, but I was dealing with stuff. Unfortunately, I can’t change the past.”
“No one can,” she said softly. Boy, was that the truth. Ask him. Ask him why he didn’t call after Frank told him to.
He pulled to a stop at the curb. “We’re here.”
“And so is Frank’s car.” The ranch-style one-story brick house sat on a one-acre plot. Thanks to the barely-there sliver of a moon, the darkness pressed in on them, making it hard to see anything but what the porch light illuminated. Brightly colored lights outlined the perimeter of the roof, and Frank had attached a gold star to the top of the chimney. Christmas was just around the corner, and Frank was fastidious about his decorations. Jade didn’t have to see anything else to know the yard was immaculate. He used gardening and yard work as his stress reliever. Saves me a ton of money on therapy bills, he’d once told her.
“He’s getting the place ready for him and Heather,” she said. “Spends all of his spare time working on it. Heather helps on her days off.”
“The wedding’s coming up soon.”
“Two weeks away.”
He nodded and tapped the wheel. “I always thought I’d be in his wedding.” He sighed. “Life sure does throw you some curveballs sometimes, doesn’t it?” Before Jade could answer, he said, “Was he acting okay with you?”
“I guess. I see more of Heather these days than I do him. Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t really explain it. I’ve been talking to him over the last few weeks, and he seemed like he had something on his mind. Like something was bothering him.”
“The latest story he was going after?”
“Could be. I mean, yeah, he was focused on that, but I was just under the impression there was something else.” He opened the car door and stepped out. “Let’s ask him.”
Jade followed him up the porch steps and waited while Bryce rang the bell. “Where are you staying?” she asked him. “At your parents’ place?”
“That mausoleum? No thanks. I’m staying with Kristy and John.” His parents were wealthy and retired, which meant they were rarely at home.
“Sounds like things haven’t changed much between you and your parents.”
“Nope.”
And he wasn’t going to elaborate. No surprise there. He’d never liked talking about them even as a teen. “Are the boys loving having you there?” Kristy and her husband, John, had two boys that Bryce had never met before his return.
“Of course. I’m really enjoying getting to know them.” He swallowed hard. “I hate that I’ve missed so much. I’ll regret that forever.”
At the husky wistfulness in his voice, Jade shut her eyes for a brief moment. “You could have come home sooner,” she said softly.
“I know that now, but back then, I...” He cleared his throat. “Coming home wasn’t an option. I’ll just have to make up for lost time with them.”
“They’re four and eighteen months old. They won’t even know their uncle wasn’t there.”
“But I know.”
She shot a sideways glance at him. “I thought you didn’t like kids.”
He blinked. “What? Of course I like kids. Why would you say that?”
She stared at him. “Because you always said you didn’t want any.”
He sighed. “Just because I don’t want any doesn’t mean I don’t like kids. I used to think I’d be a terrible dad, so why bring a kid into the world just to mess it up?”
“Like your dad?”
“Exactly. I mean, I get that he was super busy trying to provide a living, but as a young boy, I just wanted my dad around. And then when he was around, all he could do was criticize. Once he amassed his fortune, he was more interested in traveling than building a relationship with his kids. I grew up never knowing what having a dad was like. How can I be a father—a good father—without having that?” A shrug. “At least, that’s how I used to think about it. Now? I don’t know. Being around my nephews has been interesting, to say the least. And eye-opening. Kristy sure doesn’t have any trouble being a good mom.” He shook his head. “It’s made me realize I may have been wrong about some things. A lot of things. Still not sure I’d make a great dad and don’t have any intention of finding out anytime soon, but...”
It was obvious he felt strongly about missing out on his nephews’ lives and his views on having children had shifted a bit, but he wasn’t interested in being a father. So what would happen when she told him he had a five-year-old daughter?
Bryce rang the bell again and hunched into his heavy coat. He needed to keep his mouth shut. Since when did he just blurt out personal stuff?
But this was Jade. Beautiful, loving, unforgettable Jade. Someone he’d thought about daily since he’d left her on the porch steps of her dormitory her senior year six years ago, but he knew he didn’t deserve her—because she’d deserved better than him even back then. And he’d had his own dreams to follow.
So he’d left. But he’d gone with the plan to make it up to her, to stay in touch and see if they could make a long-distance relationship work—if she was even interested. Not long after that, the explosion had ripped apart more than pieces of his body. For a while, it seemed like it had shredded his soul, too.
“Bryce?”
He blinked and shook off the thoughts. “He’s not answering.”
“I know. That’s what I said three times.” She frowned. “Are you okay?”
“No, not really.” He walked to the nearest window, wiped the snow off, and tried to peer through the blinds. Impossible.
“I’m going in,” Jade said.
“How?”
“With the key he keeps under the fake turtle.” She moved the piece of decoration from the mulch and snagged the key.
“He never told me about that, either,” Bryce murmured.
“You weren’t here, Bryce. Why would he tell you that?”
He flinched.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice more gentle. “I’m not trying to rub it in that you weren’t here. It’s just that...”
“I wasn’t here. It’s truth. You’re not rubbing it in. Forget it. Let’s just find Frank.”
She nodded, opened the door, and stepped over the threshold, wiping her feet on the mat. “Frank? You here?”
Bryce followed. “Hey Frank, where are you, buddy?”
Silence echoed back at them. Together, they walked through the house. “It’s neat,” she said, and sniffed. “He just cleaned not too long ago. Probably yesterday.”
“He does love that pine scent his grandmother always used.”
“She gave him a case of it when he moved in two years ago,” she said. “I doubt even with his routine cleaning, he’s used it all up yet.”
“Two years. I missed a lot during my self-imposed exile, didn’t I?”
She shot him a tight smile and moved to Frank’s desk in the corner of his den. Bryce slipped up beside her to look over her shoulder. That familiar light strawberry-and-vanilla scent he associated with her filled his senses. He stepped back, and she wiggled the mouse on Frank’s