Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(95)

“I can’t . . .” I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking a minute to swallow down the lump in my throat. “Just take care of yourself, okay?”

He gave me a sad smile. “I’m not going anywhere. Not for a while.”

Dad had probably thought the same. Xavier was older than Dad and had lived a more stressful life. The truth was, you never knew when your time was up.

“I have a lot of regrets,” I told Xavier. “With Dad. I don’t want any with you.”

“We’re good, bud. We’re good.”

“I should have been nicer. When I saw him last, I should have been nicer. I should have called more. The last time I saw him was at Kimi’s naming. I should have tried harder.”

Instead, I’d held on to my anger. I’d held on to my pride.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d said I love you, Dad.

“You can’t blame yourself, Dakota. It’s just life. Your dad . . . we didn’t end things on good terms either. He was my brother. I can’t remember the things we said the last time we spoke.”

“Why does it have to be like this?”

He stared up at the ceiling. “We’re stubborn men. Stubborn to a fault. I’ve let it run my life. Your dad did too. We’ve both held on to feelings that we should have let go of a long time ago. Learn from our mistakes.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell him that. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“Dakota.” He turned his gaze to me. “It isn’t your fault.”

“I left.”

“You have to be who you are. There’s no shame in that.”

I dropped my gaze to the floor. If only he was right.

“Did I ever tell you about the day you were born?”

“No.”

Xavier’s face turned back to the ceiling, giving me his profile as he spoke. “Your dad came up with this idea. He wanted to have this naming ceremony so that all the family could meet his new son.”

“Wait. What? I thought the naming thing was Koko’s idea.”

“Nope, it was your dad’s. He did it for all you kids. He even went against our mom and invited me. It caused a big stir, but he didn’t care. I think he always had hope I’d come home. That things would be different. You know what he said that day when he announced your name?”

I shook my head, waiting.

“He looked at you with so much love. He said, ‘Dakota. My son. Burn bright, little star. Burn bright.’”

My jaw dropped. That was the same thing Dad had said to all of his grandchildren when he’d introduced himself.

“Your dad, he wanted you all to succeed,” Xavier said. “But I think he always knew you were too big for his idea of success. Deep down, I think he knew he was destined to lose you.”

“He never lost me.”

“It didn’t make it any easier to watch you walk away. He loved you. He wouldn’t have fought so hard to get you back if he didn’t love you. Never forget that. Your dad loved you.”

The fire in my throat began to choke. “I miss him.”

I’d always miss him. Every day. All I could do now was hope that one day, I’d find some peace with his death.

And, like Xavier had said, learn from his mistakes.

“You’re getting your gallbladder removed.” Hazel marched into the room, her chin held high as she made the declaration. “Today.”

Xavier chuckled. “Good idea.”

“I’ll leave you two alone.” I stood from the chair, hugging Xavier and Hazel before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind me.

I found Sofia in the hallway, her arms wrapped tight around herself.

“I didn’t make it to see Arthur.” Her chin quivered. “I forgot to call him too.”

“It’s okay.” I tucked her into my side with one arm around her shoulders and walked us down the hallway until I found a quiet corner at the end. “Thanks for getting Xavier here.”

She blew out a long breath. “I’m never driving again.”

I grinned. “I’ll do the driving from now on.”

“What if you’re not with me?”

I let her go, angling myself in front of her. “I talked to my mom today.”

Her frame locked tight. “And?”

“I told her I’d be pissed if she didn’t come to our wedding.”

Sofia blinked, letting my words sink in. Then her eyes began to fill with tears, the happy kind. “You did?”

“I did. And I told her I was going to make babies with you.”

A sob escaped her lips, a tear dripping down her smooth cheek. “You picked me?”

“I’ll always pick you. You’re my family.” I cupped her cheek, holding the weight of her face in my palm.

Her smile was blinding, but it didn’t last long. Another sob choked free, one so full of relief and happiness it sent her face crashing into my chest so she could cry freely.

I wrapped her up as she clung to me, the weight of two different worlds lifting from above us. We didn’t have to carry them anymore. We just had to hold up one another.

I’d told my mother today I would always choose Sofia. I gave her a choice: gain a daughter, or lose her son. I’d told her this would be the last time we spoke if she couldn’t let go of the idea I’d move home and marry Petah.