“You are assuming Dillon loves me because he loved me once, but we’ve been apart six years. A lot can happen in that time. You don’t know he hasn’t fallen in love with someone else.”
She waves her hands in the air. “He’s told you he still loves you on more than one occasion. He told your parents he loves you and regrets not fighting for you. He’s not hiding his feelings. As for the other women he’s been pictured with over the years? Come on. We both know they were nothing more than fuck buddies. He’s never been pictured with the same woman more than once. If he was in love with anyone else, you’d know about it.” Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips in an obvious tell. “You can always ask Ash. You know she’ll give it to you straight.”
“What did you do?”
“I invited her over. She’s on her way. Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not. I want to repair my relationship with her, but I couldn’t do that while I was keeping Dillon at arm’s length because it would always be the elephant in the room.”
“Good. I’m glad. I have spoken with her a few times. She wants to be here for you, and I would feel so much better knowing you have her back in your life. It will help me to not worry so much about you.”
“I want Ash back in my life, but I’m scared too because it’s going to dredge so many old memories and feelings to the surface, and I’m not sure I can handle it.” Ash and I go way beyond her brother, and we have our memories separate from Dillon, but there’s a lot of memories that are tangled too. It’s hard to completely separate them, but I’m going to try because I need to make things right with my Irish bestie.
“Better out than in, babe, and Ash won’t push you. She’ll help to rein Dillon in.”
“I’m not sure anyone is capable of reining that man in,” I say, looking out the window again.
Easton is tugging on Dillon’s hand as he talks to Dave while a couple of younger guys work on inflating the bounce house. Dillon swoops Easton up into his arms, which has got to hurt with his sore upper back, but the obvious joy on his face makes it clear any pain is worth it. Easton is animated in a way I haven’t seen for weeks. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but his cute little mouth is working overtime as he tells Dillon something.
Memories resurface in my mind, and I remember how Dillon coaxed me back to life at one time. Dillon is a lot of things, but there’s no denying he has this way of embracing life that is magical, and it’s this part of his personality that really draws people in. “I’m not sure we should even try,” I murmur.
Everything is about to change again, and I hope I’m making the right decision.
24
Dillon
“Mommy! Uncle Dillon has a surprise for me!” Easton yells the second we step foot into Viv’s house on Friday afternoon. This past month has been heaven and hell. Heaven because I get to collect Easton from camp every Friday and spend the rest of the day with him and Viv. Hell because the six other days when I don’t see them feels like six years.
East has instantly burrowed his way into my heart, earning a permanent place there. He is a breath of fresh air, and he has brightened up my world immensely. He takes so much joy in things, and I love that he loves the outdoors like me.
Not that he gets much of a chance to do stuff.
Viv is uberprotective, to the point I’m starting to worry. Apart from camp, she won’t let East out of her sight, and they spend all their time cooped up at the house. I know it’s not a chore. The place is frigging huge, and East doesn’t want for a single thing. He has a pool, a treehouse, a massive playground and obstacle course, and an indoor playroom with every toy, activity, and game imaginable.
Viv fills his afternoons with playdates and activities so he’s never bored, but I can tell he’s feeling caged, and I’m wondering how to tackle it with his mum. I’ve considered calling Audrey to ask her if Viv is always this protective, but those two are thick as thieves, and I can’t risk Audrey telling Viv. I’m treading on eggshells here, terrified if I do or say the wrong thing that Viv will change her mind and freeze me out again.
“He does, huh?” Viv says, appearing at the end of the hallway. Relief floods her features as her gaze roams her son, checking to ensure he’s okay. Easton races toward her as she crouches down, opening her arms. He throws himself at her, hugging her close, and my heart does this twisty thing it always does every time I see them together.
She is such a good mother, always putting his needs before her own, spending hours playing with him or reading to him, and she ensures he eats well and he sticks to a daily routine that gives him comfort and structure. In a lot of ways, she reminds me of my ma, but in others, she is totally different.
Ma had a bunch of kids at home and a farm to run, so our routine was a lot less rigid, our house a lot more chaotic. I have always loved my parents, especially because they took me in and treated me as one of their own from the very start. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve developed a greater appreciation for them, especially Mum.
“Can I see it now?” East asks as I approach, bouncing from foot to foot. I chuckle, ruffling his hair. Intermittent blond strands lighten his brown hair, thanks to hours spent outdoors this summer. I can’t believe it’s the beginning of August already, and there is only five months left before we head out on tour. I have no clue how I am going to leave them behind. Even if Viv is still keeping me at a distance and there is no evidence of her thawing toward me at all.
Viv straightens up, smiling softly. “Everything was okay?” she asks, like usual.
“Everything was fine.” I understand her concern, to a certain extent. After that crazy bitch came at her with a knife, the camp organizers asked Viv not to escort Easton anymore. They can’t risk another incident, as it places all the kids in danger, so Viv had no choice but to reluctantly agree. Now, she drives Easton there and waits in the car while Leon or Bobby takes him inside.
Of course, the press went to town after the attack, and it dredged everything up again just as it had started settling down. Hate mail has doubled at the fan club, but Margaret Andre keeps it well away from Vivien. I have spoken to her and asked her to let me know if there are any serious threats made.
It seems crazy attracts crazy and that portion of Reeve’s fanbase who never approved of Viv are more vocal online. It’s ridiculous they are blaming her for the accident, and if I see one more post calling Vivien a murderer, I will lose my shit.
Ash changed the password on all my social media accounts after I started retaliating because fuck that crap. Does she really expect me to not say something when assholes are spewing poison at the woman I love? And don’t even get me started on those lingering Saffhards.
Saffron Roberts is a junkie nobody these days, but she appears to have a core following who still think she’s the bomb. They are loving a new opportunity to throw shit at Viv, and I couldn’t not respond.
Until Ash put a stop to it, and now I’m banned from all my accounts. She has the band PA responding appropriately—her words, not mine—and I’ve just had to suck it up.
East tugs on my leg. “Uncle Dillon. Puh-leasssssee can I have my surprise now?”