Love Irresistibly (FBI/US Attorney #4)(87)

He gestured. “Please. Come in. Uh. . . maybe I can pull this chair over from here . . .” Moving awkwardly, as if nervous, he grabbed an extra chair from the corner and set it a couple of feet across from the one by the window.

After they’d both sat down, Noah rested his hands on his legs and looked Cade over. “So, wow. Assistant U.S. Attorney Cade Morgan, in the flesh.”

Though he showed no reaction outwardly, this surprised Cade. He’d had no clue Noah knew he’d become a prosecutor. “How are you feeling?” It seemed like the kind of question one should ask in a hospital.

“Well, it’s been a roller-coaster ride, all right,” Noah said. “But actually, I feel pretty good this morning. They started me on some new steroid yesterday—told me I needed to stay for observation for twenty-four hours to make sure there aren’t any side effects.” He waved in the direction of the hallway, managing a smile. “I think the nurses are pissed that I won’t wear the hospital gown. I told them they’ll have plenty of chances to see me in one of those soon.”

“What about chemotherapy or radiation?”

“I start radiation next week. They say it won’t shrink the tumor, but they’re hoping it might slow how quickly it grows.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

Cade figured he might as well get right to the point. There was one thing, at least, he wanted to say. “Noah, I—”

“I read about your big promotion in the news,” Noah cut in eagerly, before Cade could finish. “Acting U.S. attorney, that really is something. Will you still be able to try cases when you take over that role? Sounds like the Sanderson trial is shaping up to be a real dogfight.”

Cade carefully studied the man across from him. Noah sure seemed to have a lot of information about him. “You follow all the news related to the U.S. Attorney’s Office that closely?”

Noah met his gaze, his voice quiet. “No. Just the news related to my son.”

All the anger that Cade had been pushing down for years suddenly came boiling right up to the surface.

My son.

Noah Garrity had lost the right to call him that a long time ago.

Jaw clenched, Cade took a moment. He calmed himself before speaking. “I didn’t come here to talk about my job.”

“I’m sure you want an explanation from me. I know I sure as hell would.”

“No.” Cade locked eyes with him. “I don’t want anything from you.”

“Humor a dying man, then.”

Cade felt a mixture of emotions at the poor attempt at a joke. He said nothing further and . . . waited.

Noah took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “I was a screwup back then, Cade. I couldn’t keep a job, I drank, I got high, and I didn’t give a shit about anyone except myself. When the landscaping business I’d started with my brother folded, I came back to Chicago to live off my parents. That gave my father plenty of opportunities to tell me how useless I was—and trust me, he had no problem taking every one of them.”

Father issues? Was that what Noah was blaming everything on? Cade almost laughed at the irony. Join the f**king club.

“I called your mother about a month after getting back in town,” Noah said. “I thought that seeing you would help me get my act together.”

“Didn’t exactly work out that way, did it?” Cade said sarcastically, before he could stop himself. Keep emotions out of this, Morgan.

“I was immature. And stupid. I thought it would be fun to see my kid, someone I could take to a ball game or play video games with. I wasn’t thinking about all the responsibility that came with it.” Noah paused. “But when I saw you that day, it suddenly become so . . . real. I kept thinking that you were already ten times smarter than me, and stronger, too, with the way you stood up to me and asked me straight-out why I hadn’t been around.” He smiled ruefully. “But you also had such a good heart. I could see how much you wanted me to be your fath—”

“Don’t.” Cade spoke in a low tone. “Don’t say it.” He knew the exact moment Noah was talking about—when he’d called him Dad.

A flash of sadness crossed Noah’s eyes. “I know there’s no excuse for what I did.” His eyes met Cade’s, the same shade of blue. “But you need to understand—I would’ve messed you up, Cade. Despite what a jerk I was back then, even I could see that your mother had gotten it so right. Staying out of your life was the best thing I could’ve done for you.”

Cade stared out the window, shaking his head. “That’s . . . such bullshit.”

“Is it?” Noah gestured to Cade. “Look at you. Think you would’ve gotten this far with a deadbeat dad bringing you down?”

“Bit of a shame those were my only two options, don’t you think? No father, or a deadbeat one?”

“Yes, it is,” Noah said, without any trace of sarcasm. “It took me thirty-five years to learn how to be a father. And I will go to my grave being ashamed of that.”

Cade turned back to the window, having nothing to say to that.

“I used to go to your football games, you know,” Noah said.

Cade slowly looked over. “When?”

“At Northwestern. First game I saw was your sophomore year, against Penn State. After Zach was born, I’d begun to think about you a lot. A real lot. I knew they were starting you that game—your first time—and I wanted to be there.”