Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 683(@200wpm)___ 546(@250wpm)___ 455(@300wpm)
“Books?” I feign shock, clutching my chest dramatically. “You had to learn from books? How old are you?”
Miles shoots me a mock-stern look. “Keep it up, and I’ll put you over my knee.”
“That only makes me want to tease you more,” I reply, grinning as I take another bite. “This is incredible, by the way.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He takes a bite of his, and after he finishes, he says, “I had to learn.”
“Why?”
“My dad was the cook.”
“Oh,” I say, understanding dawning. Miles had mentioned at Birdie’s coffee shop that his dad had left without warning. “And so you took it on then?”
“Yup,” he says, then takes another bite.
That fits him so perfectly. That’s what he does. He takes things on without complaining—responsibilities, people, pets, chores.
“I didn’t want to make things harder on Mom than they already were,” he adds. “I focused on school and helping out with Tyler and Charlie since they were younger. Mom was working full-time and already had enough on her plate. So to speak.”
My smile fades. “School, your siblings, the house, hockey. That’s a lot for a teenager. Did she ask you to step up?”
“No,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “My dad did. Right before he left. He told me I needed to be the man of the house.”
“That’s a lot to put on you.”
He shrugs again, as if shrugging off the memory. “Someone had to do it.”
My chest tightens, a mix of admiration and something deeper—my own hurt over what he went through. I know what it’s like to be left by a parent. But my dad took everything on for Riley and me, his parents helping out. I didn’t have to become an early parent. Miles doesn’t just step up—he sacrifices without hesitation. It’s such a part of what he does and who he is that he thinks it’s not a big deal. So I push back a little. “Sure, someone had to do it. But you did it. And it’s a lot. I admire that,” I say, since I want him to know it is a big deal what he did, even if he doesn’t see it that way.
A smile teases at his lips. “Yeah? You do?”
“Of course I do. It’s very you,” I say.
His eyes are soft, a little vulnerable, almost like he’s glad someone noticed. “I guess so.” He heaves a sigh, scratching his jaw. Something’s on his mind. Maybe something he’s not sure he wants to say. But then he soldiers on. “I wanted to ask why he said that to me—to step up. Why he left me with that…weight. That responsibility. At first, I just did it. I stepped up. Cooked, cleaned, studied, helped out. But later, when I graduated from high school, I was a little pissed at him. I really wanted to understand why.”
I reach for his hand, urging him to keep going. “I’d have been more than a little pissed.”
“I wanted closure,” he says, his voice heavy as he opens up, but also calm, steady. “I wanted to tell him how I felt. But when I tracked him down, I found out he’d died of a heart attack.”
My heart squeezes—not for his dad, but for this man with me right now. “I’m sorry, Miles.”
He swallows, sighs, then says with some resignation, “Me too.” He pauses, holds my gaze. “And thank you. For asking.”
It’s said like it’s what he needed all along.
“Of course,” I say, then even though it might make him uncomfortable, I ask the next thing. “What would you have told him? If you found him? What’s the closure you wanted?”
If he needs closure, maybe he can get it…with me.
Now.
Here.
He blows out a long breath. “Good question.” His brow furrows, but it doesn’t take long for him to find the answer. “I think I’d have said I wished he had the guts to tell me the truth before he took off. That it was unfair to leave like that. That it pissed me off.” He looks away, then back at me. “But also, I think what I really wanted to say is—he missed out. It was his loss. I wanted him to know he had an amazing, clever daughter in Charlie who turned out to be a passionate advocate for animal rights, a son in Tyler who’s funny as hell and ferocious on the ice, and more disciplined than anyone I know. A wife who is the best mom in the world. And he missed out on all that,” he says, emotion in his voice, but it’s clear the emotion is reserved for his family, not for the family member who left.
“And a strong, thoughtful, caring, smart, incredibly resilient son who’s pretty passionate too,” I add.
Miles’s lips tilt in another smile as he moves in for a kiss. A soft, tender one that ends with a “thank you” whispered against my lips. When he pulls back, he adds, “For the closure.”