Page 9 of Almost Christmas in Paradise

“You’re probably asking yourself why. I know you, and I know along with your anger, you’re also confused. How could I, the father who raised and loved you, do this to you? You’veprobably called me a hypocrite about a million times by now, and I don’t blame you. The things I’ve done to you don’t match the values that I brought you up with. In the last few years of my life, I was a terrible father to you, and I own that.”

She stops reading again and looks at me, probably to check and make sure I’m okay. She runs her hands lovingly through my hair, just the way I like.

“If he was here right now, I’d punch him in the face,” she says. Her words don’t surprise me, but the laugh that comes out of me does.

“I know how painful one of your slaps is. I can’t imagine a punch. He’d deserve it though,” I say. “Please continue.”

She puts the first sheet of paper down and starts reading page two.

“Son, I’ve always had a vision of how your life was supposed to go. The day you were born was one of the best of my life. We were told you were going to be a girl, so imagine my surprise when the doctor pulled out a boy. My heir. I remember holding you in my arms and looking down at you. I only realized I was crying when my tears fell on your face, but from that day on, I promised you a great life. And you did not disappoint, Drake. You were not just a beautiful and sweet boy, but you were smart. Brilliant, in fact. You’re a natural leader. You have great empathy for others. You’re kind. You made me proud every single day. You excelled at everything you did. You got into the Ivy League, and I didn’t have to build a new library like I had to do for your brother. You’re my legacy, and you would take over Paradise Construction and lead it to new heights. If we were a political family, you would be my JFK.”

Chapter 9

Drake

I roll my eyes. Dad would make that analogy despite knowing how much I dislike politics and politicians. He knows I’m far too direct to ever choose politics as a career.

“No way,” she says. “I wouldn’t have given you a second look if you were a politician.”

“Mmhmm, but you still would have ended up here somehow. You’d be my first lady.” I kiss her shoulder.

“No,” she says.

“Yes,” I insist. “Keep going, baby girl.” She looks back down at the letter and continues.

“I know how much you hate that. Politics has never been your thing because you can’t fake it. You wear your feelings on your sleeve, and that’s the one thing I could never train you not to do. But I love that about you too because you got that from your mother. As I was saying, I had a picture of what your futurewould look like. You’d have a wife, and you’d have a son or sons, and one of them would one day become CEO.” She stops again.

“Did he ever consider that Langley or Hannah might want to run things?” she huffs and returns to the letter.

I’ve had those same thoughts and wonder why it’s always been about me. I now blame my father for the rift between me and my brother. He sowed this division and rivalry, and I was too blind to see it.

“Then I saw the text from Nia Nash, and I read the string of texts between you two. I know you, Son. Right now, you’re shaking your head and saying that I don’t know you at all, but I do. I knew you were in love. I knew that if I objected, you would choose her and leave us behind. I knew that Nia did not fit my image of your future. When I looked at the picture I created in my mind, she didn’t belong. She’s a fine person. I looked into her background and that of her family. They are good, hardworking people, and I have nothing against them. In fact, I admire them, but Nia was not worthy of my heir.” This is the same bullshit Wyatt said about my father. He said my dad put me on a pedestal and only saw me as an extension of himself. “I couldn’t have it, and I didn’t. I took your phone and went to work. I won’t get into the details of how I did that here. Howard was instructed to tell you everything before giving you this letter, but I did it. Me. Not Howard or anyone else. Me. Your father. I kept you in Berlin for far longer than you needed to be there. I sent Scarlett there to get you out of your funk. Yes, I knew you were hurting, and I did nothing about it. I couldn’t stop it. I’d gone too far. Yes, I knew Nia was pregnant, and that the child was yours. I knew that if I told you, you would hate me, so I kept quiet. Things kept escalating, and I couldn’t un-ring the bell. Truth be told, I didn’t want to. At least not yet. Then you got engaged, but I could see you weresettling and not happy. By then, too much time had passed, and I was in so deep. I suffered. My marriage to your mother suffered because I bore all this guilt. I was short with her. I was angry, and because your mother was the person I was closest to in this world, she had to bear the brunt of my anger. Your mom knew something was wrong, but there was no way I could tell her. I could not handle your anger and her disappointment too. Maybe I should have told her. Maybe she would have been able to mediate things between us. My relationship with you suffered because I couldn’t bear to look at you. I saw a therapist, and he made me see that I had no choice but to come clean. I felt sick about it. Emotionally and physically sick. The day I was due to tell you is the same day I got my pancreatic cancer diagnosis. It was stage four, and I knew I was being punished for what I had done to you. Still, I said nothing because I knew this was the end for me, and I could not stand the thought of you hating me. I needed you as much as I needed anyone else. I needed you with me until the end.”

Nia puts that sheet of paper face down and reaches for the next one. “Do you want me to continue, or do you need a break?”

“I’d like some water,” I say.

She jumps off my lap and runs out of my office before I can tell her I’d like to get it myself. I ache to continue, but I can’t bring myself to touch them.

Nia returns with a tray that holds two tall glasses of ice water and a shot of whiskey. I stand and take it from her. I down half the glass of ice water, but I don’t touch the whiskey. At least not yet. I take it and put it out of the way.

Nia sits on me and picks up the next page before continuing.

“Yes, I conspired and successfully kept you from Nia and your son. I did that to my son, and I don’t want you to thinkthat I did this because I don’t love you. I love you so much. I did this because I wanted the best for you, but I know it was wrong. I knew it was wrong when I was doing it. I knew it was wrong before I knew there was a baby, but I was in so deep, and I knew I would lose you. I couldn’t bear it. I was not only selfish, but I was a coward. I am sorry. I’m sure by now, you’ve found her and met your son. I also know you well enough to know that there’s a good chance you’re back together with her, and if for some reason she doesn’t believe you, show her this letter and show her the video. Nia, if you are with my son now, I did this, and he had nothing to do with any of it.”

“Fucking asshole,” Nia mutters under her breath.

“Keep going, please,” is all I say. I’m eager to get this over with and put it behind me.

“I lost out on this too. I missed out on my first grandson. I could only look from a distance.” She put the letter down and slams her hand on the desk. She reaches for the whiskey, but I wrap my hand around her wrist and put my free hand on her stomach. She stops reaching for the drink, turns, and buries her face in my chest.

“You can say it. I’m thinking it too,” I say.

“I feel like he’s making this about him when it’s about you and what he did to you. Are we supposed to feel bad for him because he missed out on his grandson? As if he ever gave a damn about Carter. If he did, he would have spoken up, but he was too much of a pussy.” She takes a breath and flares her nostrils.

I rub her back to calm her, but every word that comes out of her mouth is correct. I can’t refute a single thing, not that I would. When it comes to my wife and father, my wife is always right.

“Calm down, baby girl,” I say.

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