A stark feeling of emptiness washed over me. It nearly dropped me. It was as if my insides had been carved out and I was a hollow shell. I looked at my father who had taken a seat at the kitchen table. His shoulders, usually thrown back with his chest puffed out, were sagging. His back was bowed. He looked deflated. I knew what I was feeling and imagined it was ten times worse for him.
I pitied him in that moment. His favorite son, his only son as far as he was concerned, was gone. His beloved wife was gone. He was left with me, his biggest failure. Life was not fair. Life fucked with people.
“When?” I asked, taking a seat at the table.
He looked at me bleary eyed. “What?”
“When is the funeral? Will it be here?”
“Yes. Wednesday.”
I nodded. I shouldn’t have been surprised to be left out of the planning of the arrangements. “It’s all taken care of?”
“Yes.”
“When? What time?”
He spouted off the time as if it took him a great deal of effort to say the words. “Don’t bother coming.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to bother yourself by going to the funeral. You were too busy for him in life. Don’t pretend you give a shit now that he’s gone.”
I felt like I had been kicked in the gut. Surprisingly, I didn’t get angry. I was still in the emotional desert that stole away all emotion. That was probably a good thing. Fighting with him wasn’t going to help. “I’m going to the funeral. Period.”
He glared at me. “He was a good son. He was an honorable man. He died for his country. I am proud to be his father and I won’t have you trying to steal his glory.”
“I would never steal his glory. I’m his brother. I’m his only brother. I will be there for him.”
He scoffed before taking a drink. “You just want people to think you give a damn. We both know you don’t.”
I shrugged, knowing it was pointless to argue. “I’m sorry you feel that way. You can be pissed at me if that’s what makes this easier on you.”
“I don’t give a shit about you,” he spat the words. His venom stung my battered soul, but I dug deep, pulling that invisible forcefield around me just a little tighter. “I’m not pissed. I just don’t give a damn what you do. You made your choice a long time ago. You never cared about this family or the honor we all worked so hard to maintain. Go back to your mansion and your millions. I’ve got this.”
I got to my feet. Staying would only cause more pain. Once the hard shell wore off, his words would be on repeat in my head. They would hurt me if I let them. My father was best in small doses.
“I’ll see you later,” I said and walked out of the house without stopping to look back.
I got in the car and drove to a section of beach that was packed with tourists soaking in the last days of summer. I kicked off my shoes and started to walk. I didn’t know where I was going, and I didn’t care. No matter how hard I tried to block them, my father’s words echoed through my mind. It was like the little ticker tape on the bottom of a newscast. Things he said today mixed in with things he had said to me over the last fifteen years.
My mother’s funeral had been bad, but I knew Kade’s would be a hundred times worse. Maybe it was best I didn’t go. I didn’t like my father, and I knew he didn’t like me, but I didn’t want to make his pain any worse. I wasn’t doing it for me but for Kade. Kade had desperately wanted us to find a way to be a family again. It was the last thing he said to me.
I didn’t think I could honor his wishes, but I could keep from making the situation worse. It wasn’t like Kade would know if I was at the funeral or not. No one would miss me. No one.
Chapter 48
Evie
I cleaned myself up after discovering Xander’s absence, but I was still a mess. I found myself randomly bursting into tears for no good reason. Half the time I didn’t even know what I was crying about.
I just felt fried. My nerves were raw. Every little thing made me cry for no good reason. I stubbed my toe on a chair leg and I burst into tears. I looked at the ocean and I cried. I felt as if I was grieving the loss of not just Kade but Xander.
I’d lost him. I’d lost the man I cared for and someone I considered to be a good friend, a companion.
I wanted to help Xander. I wanted to know he was okay. I was terrified for him. I hated to think he was alone. I was imagining all kinds of things. I did have an active imagination. It was why I was so good at my job. In this situation, that imagination was not working well for me. I pictured him alone in a dark room, sad and distraught and hating himself.
I knew the relationship between him and his father was strained. Who did he have to turn to? Who was going to be there for him? I was probably giving myself too much credit by thinking he needed me. He didn’t need me. The man had lived his entire life without me and had done just fine.
With the day coming to an end and still no word from Xander, I felt like I was going out of my mind. I needed some distance from the situation. I needed guidance. I drove to the bar, knowing Nelle would know what to do. She would talk me through the craziness I was feeling.
“Hi,” she said with a soft smile when I slid onto my barstool.
“Hi,” I said on a long sigh.
“Do you want a drink?”
I shook my head. “Just a diet coke please. I don’t trust myself to day drink.”
“What’s going on?” she asked as she handed me my drink.
“He’s gone.”
She froze, her hand pausing mid-wipe on the bar. “The last time you used that phrase, you were telling me someone died. Please don’t tell me that’s what you’re saying now.”
“No, not that kind of gone,” I told her. “Xander is gone. He didn’t show up for a very, very important meeting this morning. Something is wrong. He would never miss that meeting. He’s been working day and night to prepare for the presentation. Something isn’t right.”
“His brother died,” she answered. “He needs time. I would think that would be a given.”
“He didn’t cancel the meeting. People flew in from all over to be there and he stood them up. That isn’t normal. He would never do that.”
She didn’t look worried. “I’m sure he has a lot on his mind. It isn’t really all that surprising that he would forget something like that.”
I wasn’t buying it. “Not Xander. He isn’t like that. He’s been consumed with this project. He wouldn’t just forget it.”
“Maybe he blew it off on purpose.”
“Why would he do that?”
She shrugged. “People do crazy things when they’re grieving. They can be irrational. Have you left him a voicemail? Texted him?”
I gave her a dry look. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Don’t get snarky,” she said with a laugh. “I was only making sure.”
“I’ve been calling him since yesterday and have not gotten an answer, which isn’t surprising considering his phone is at the bottom of his pool.”