Down Too Deep (Dirty Deeds, #4)(92)

My father dropped his hand and turned in his chair to face me. “Nathan, I’m going to say a few things, and I want you to let me finish before you step in, okay? Can you give me that?”

“Yeah.”

Shit. That was all he was asking for? Momentary silence? He could have it. I owed him a lot more.

“You and Sadie loved each other, there was no doubt about that, but I’m not sure either one of you ever really needed the other. I don’t think you allowed yourself to feel that for her, and I don’t think she did either. Or maybe you simply couldn’t. Whatever the case, I never saw a dependency there. You were solid with her and you were solid on your own. I think she was the same, until she wasn’t.”

Anger burned in my blood. I was solid without her? What the fuck did that mean?

I quickly looked over at him, ready to question whatever the hell this bullshit was he was trying to say, but I bit my tongue when I remembered the request to let him finish.

“I’m not saying that was necessarily a bad thing.” He paused in thought. “I’m not saying it wasn’t either. None of us know what Sadie was going through, but I refuse to put any blame on her and I sure as hell won’t put it on you, so I’m going to move on and say that it’s okay to need other people, Nathan. It is okay to let yourself rely on someone so they can help you through this life that can sure as hell be a real kick in the ass sometimes. I think what you’re feeling for this woman is just that—you need her. And I hope I don’t have to explain myself and clarify that I do not mean you need her in terms of watching Marley…”

“No, I know what you mean.”

“This feels different to you because it is different,” Dad went on. “It’s bigger. When you move past loving someone to needing them—they become a necessity to your own survival. You no longer get to decide whether you can be without this person. You can’t. It’s decided for you. I think you’re having difficulty understanding this because you’ve never felt it before. I also think maybe you’re a little scared of it for the same reason.”

I considered his explanation. I stepped outside of my own reaction to look at it more clearly, and fuck, he was right. How did I not see what this was? I did need Jenna. From the very beginning, I was better with her. Being together, simply listening to her voice and the things she would say to me, her encouragement, everything. Around Jenna I was who I wanted to be.

And even though it was strange and somewhat difficult to analyze my relationship with Sadie now, with her gone, I couldn’t deny the truth. We hadn’t been dependent on each other. We worked just as well together as we did on our own. We didn’t rely on the other person for anything. That wasn’t us.

“Why didn’t I need Sadie?” I asked. “Why didn’t I get there with her?”

My father was shaking his head before I finished speaking. “I don’t have the answer to that, Nathan. I don’t know if there is one…but I want to be clear on one thing: It doesn’t matter if that guilt is yours and something only you can understand—it’s okay to let someone help you through it. In fact, I think it’s vital. Don’t fight this.”

“I’m not.”

“Nathan.”

My nostrils flared as I pulled in a breath. I wiped wetness from my eyes. “Dad, come on…”

“Don’t come on me. I know you. I know there’s things we haven’t talked about and maybe you’ll never talk about them with me, and I’ll deal with that as long as I know you’re going to give that woman everything you’re feeling. Promise me you’ll do that, son. Hey.” He gripped my neck when I looked away and leaned in, gently forcing me to do the same. Our foreheads touched. “Promise me,” he begged, his voice tight. “You gotta have help with this, Nathan. We all lost Sadie. We are not losing you.”

I could barely see him through the tears in my eyes. “How did you know?”

He stroked my neck, smiling a little as he sat back. “Do you think I don’t see your guilt? That’s another thing about being a parent—no one knows your child better than you do.”

“I’m sorry…fuck.” I pulled my glasses off and wiped my forearm across my face. “I know I should’ve talked about it. It’s just hard.”

“I know it is. I can only imagine the weight you carry around with you. There are things I’ve told your mother that have been difficult to share, but I don’t hold back with her. She gets it all. And that’s not just for me, Nathan. When I let her in like that, that’s for her too. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sure that woman wanted to be here…”

“Her name is Jenna.”

“Sorry. I’m sure Jenna wanted to be here…”

“I wanted her here. I always do. It’s just…” I looked down, gritting my teeth. “I was embarrassed. The whole thing, it messed me up. It’s still messing me up. I never would’ve told her I forgot about Sadie. I wouldn’t want her thinking I could do that.”

“Well, I’m going to tell you right now—that would’ve gotten you into trouble.”

“What would’ve?” I lifted my gaze.

“Not sharing something like that,” he explained. “Letting that eat away at you…”