Her eyes welled up, but she said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her shaking head was enough, but the expression of pity on her face was just another blow to his already aching heart.

“Don’t worry. I know it’s impossible. I just needed to tell you before I left.” He swatted the one fucking tear that escaped the corner of his eye away. “I needed to say it to you if only once. I’m glad I got the chance.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. He couldn’t. He had to get out of there now, but he couldn’t resist the urge to touch her just one last time, so he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “Good-bye, Sof.”

That was it. He couldn’t stand there for even another moment and look into those stunned eyes, eyes that said without a doubt he’d been completely wrong. She’d never felt for him what he he’d been so delusional enough to think she might.

Pushing through the front doors of the store, he nearly growled. He was infuriated that he’d been so close to losing it in front of her, something he’d vowed years ago he’d never do, not when he’d had to watch his mother suffer at the mercy of his father’s rage, not when his dad turned that same rage on him, not even when he found out his father was dying, and certainly not over feeling his heart crushed by the only girl he’d ever had feelings for.

Nothing had ever been so clear and so fast. He felt like a complete idiot now. All this time, he’d secretly been banking on the possibility that, deep inside, what he thought he felt from Sofie last summer had been real. Even when she’d taken it back just before he left again, making it clear she’d only been curious, his delusional heart was convinced she was just covering up—clearing her conscience.

The painful truth had never been so infuriatingly clear. She’d only been curious about what it’d be like to be with someone like him, someone she’d never take seriously in real life. So she’d used the opportunity with his desperate ass to indulge that forbidden curiosity.

Throwing his dad’s meds on the passenger seat, he banged on the steering wheel. He’d almost done what he held back from doing all his life—something he’d promised his dad he wouldn’t even do at his funeral—for a girl who never gave a shit about him. He’d almost broken down.

He finally understood what his father had meant all those years. That kind of deep emotion—the kind he felt suffocating his heart at that moment—was sacred. It was something that should remain deep inside. No one had a right to know you were feeling it but yourself. Showing it was a sign of weakness. That’s exactly how he felt at that moment, like the weakest most pathetic idiot on the planet. At that moment, he vowed once again he’d never let anyone—no matter what—witness this side of him again.

It wasn’t even a week after he’d reported back to Georgia when he got the call. His dad had passed, and just like that, Brandon was back on a plane to attend the services. As expected, not too many people showed up. His father had never made many friends, and as hardened and difficult as he’d become over the years, any acquaintances he did have once upon a time had distanced themselves from him long ago.

Brandon took solace in the fact that he and his dad had finally begun to actually have a real father-son relationship, even though his dad had passed too soon afterward. He and his mom would move to Georgia permanently and start all over again. Maybe now he could rekindle that bond he once had with her. His mom had been the only one in his life to ever show him love. He’d felt it from her through and through. Brandon was determined to turn his life around—take away all the negativity that had built up all these years and live a normal happy life. Now that it was just he and his mom, he knew that could happen. She’d been waiting for this change as long as he had.

Days after the services, they somberly finished packing up the U-Haul truck with all their belongings. Brandon would be driving it across the country. He wished that on such a long drive he and his mother could be in the same car. It would be a perfect way to start getting to know each other once again—talk about their new life and the neighborhoods they’d be shopping for their new home—but his mother would be driving their mini-van across the country.

Brandon had been tempted to rent a trailer and just haul the van as well, not just because he was looking to really talking to his mom but because she’d always been a nervous driver. The longest drive she’d ever made was just over two hours up north to Los Angeles. Still, she insisted she’d be fine.

“We’ll just take it nice and slow,” she smiled, squeezing his arm before getting in the van.

She wasn’t kidding about the nice and slow part. Eight hours later they’d barely made it a little past Tucson. He had a week to get back to the base. At this rate, it was going to take them twice that long.

As the clerk at the hotel they’d be staying at for the night looked up the room, Brandon leaned against the counter. “Maybe I should rent that trailer, Ma.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.”

Brandon shook his head. “It’s not that. I think it would speed up the trip. I only have until Monday to report back. At the rate we’re going, it’ll be at least Thursday before we get there.”

“You think so?” His mother frowned. “We had a bad start today. Tomorrow we’ll get up super early and see how far we get. If you still think we have to by the end of the night, we can rent one.”

Exhaling, he gave in with a nod. After getting their things in their room, they left again to grab something to eat. During dinner, his mother told him about his father’s last dying wish. “Aside from the hope that someday you’d forgive him, he wanted grandchildren.”

Chuckling humorously, Brandon shook his head as he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and ate them. He wouldn’t say it because he was determined to leave that darkness behind him. Saying that was a joke, considering what a rotten father his dad had been his whole life, would definitely darken the mood. His father had taught him nothing about being a man much less a father. While he’d be eternally grateful to his superiors in the Marines who had showed him what honor and integrity were and had turned him into the man he was now, it wasn’t enough, not enough to erase the only example of a father he’d ever had. It didn’t take away that his father’s blood ran through his veins and the fact that he may very well turn into him someday.

“He said he knows you never really got to experience what a bond between a father and a child should really be, so he wants you to experience it with your own child.”

Fighting the bitterness he felt over that statement, he almost gave in to retorting like he wanted to. “Yeah, well just ’cause he fu—”He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, and decided to start over instead. “I don’t think that’ll happen, but—”

“Why not?” His mother touched his hand and smiled weakly. “I’d love grandchildren too. And honey,” she paused until he’d look her in the eyes, “despite what you remember of your father, he did have a heart. I know it’s very hard for you to understand why he was the way he was. He had so many personal demons he was fighting, but he did love you. I know what you’re thinking, Brandon.” She squeezed his arm. “You are not your father. No matter how bad things got, you were always such a loving little boy, so mindful and sweet. Remember how you used to tend to me when I wasn’t well?”

Her eyes dropped in pain, and Brandon knew why. He squeezed his hand into a fist. All those times he’d tended to her weren’t because she wasn’t well. Most of those times, she was hurt—injured because of his asshole dad. As if she’d read his mind, she looked up and patted his arm.

“Regardless of why you were tending to me, Brandon, whether it was because I was banged up or was nursing a cold, you were still so attentive and looked after me so thoroughly. Do you remember how you used to bring me flowers from the backyard every time?”