Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I stood from the table. “We’d better get going.”
CHAPTER 28
TRISTAN
The following morning, I was at my rental house doing a third read-through of Jacob’s journals. The first time you read, you always miss something. In order to burn it into my memory, I’d probably never stop reading them.
The toughest part for me was always the section where he wrote about discovering I was his father.
It still doesn’t feel real. Tristan Daltrey is my father? Just last month, I was having a conversation with Jaden about the fact that I didn’t respect the guy as a musician. I said he prioritized fame and fortune over artistic integrity, writing music without substance to appeal to the masses. When I watched him being interviewed, he always struck me as arrogant. I said the only reason Delirious Jones became popular was one song that went viral on social media. So many musicians deserve that esteem more. I feel guilty now for the shitty stuff I said, even if it still might be true.
I just don’t know what to make of this. Cheyenne said it was up to me whether I wanted to contact him. But he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would welcome this kind of news. What if he thinks I’m lying or trying to get money out of him? I’d rather not know him than be rejected.
I feel sick. Why couldn’t my father just be some normal Joe?
Tristan Daltrey? Fuck, man.
I closed the notebook and took a few deep breaths. A knock at the door interrupted my wallowing. I lifted my gaze to find Atticus entering the room.
He took one look at me and narrowed his eyes. “What’s got you down?” he asked.
“My son thought I was an overrated tool…”
“What makes you say that?”
“I was reading his journal again.”
“Well, if he’d met you…” He paused. “He would’ve confirmed that.”
“Thanks a lot, asshole.” I chuckled.
“I’m kidding.” Atticus pulled a chair out and sat backwards. “But try to stop torturing yourself with things you can’t change.”
“Easier said than done.”
“I know this whole trip is about connecting with him, and that’s not easy when he isn’t here. But I hate seeing you so damn down like this. You need to cheer up, man. You should come with us to crash this karaoke bar tonight. The locals will shit their pants if you show up.”
“I’m not sure how I’ll feel after today. I’m supposed to meet Jacob’s parents this afternoon.”
“I didn’t know you were doing that today.”
“Yeah. I’m meeting Emily at their house later.”
Atticus rested his chin on his hands. “How’s it been—hanging out with her?”
“It’s a little tense, but that’s to be expected.”
“You still like her?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I get that. But feelings don’t just get erased because of circumstances.”
“I can’t like her. How about that?” I shrugged. “She’s got a boyfriend now anyway.”
“And you have a girlfriend.”
“Yes. Thanks for the reminder.”
He scratched his chin. “You know, I find it kind of weird how you haven’t had a girlfriend all these years. And when that whole thing went down with Emily, you jumped right into a relationship.”
“What are you insinuating?”
“Not saying it’s a bad thing, but just that you might’ve jumped into something with Nazarene to forget about Emily.”
“You’re a friggin’ genius,” I said.
“Nothing wrong with that. Nazarene is a smokeshow. Can’t go wrong there. But I feel like you connected with Emily on a deeper level.”
I inhaled a deep breath. “I can definitely see why my son loved her so much.”
Atticus raised a brow. “Just him who loved her, huh?”
Fuck. I couldn’t even begin to ponder whether what I’d felt for Emily was love. I shook my head. “Like I said, doesn’t matter.”
“You seem to think Jacob would be mad at you for unknowingly messing around with his girl. How do you know he wouldn’t understand?”
“He hated me enough as it was. Pretty sure that would only make things worse.”
“He didn’t hate you. He didn’t even know you.”
“What gets me is, he wasn’t wrong with some of the shit he wrote about our music. But he was definitely wrong in thinking I wouldn’t have wanted to know him.”
“You would’ve been a good dad,” Atticus said after a moment. “When I need someone to talk to, you’re always the first person I go to. When I was going through all that stuff with Nicole, you were a good friend to me. I’ll never forget that.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” I told him. “I appreciate you guys being willing to camp out here while I work through this.”
“Are you kidding? I’m having a grand old time corrupting this small town.” He winked.
Ronan walked in. “Who are we corrupting now?”
“Not Emily anymore…” Atticus taunted as he hopped off the chair.
I smacked him up the side of his head.
***
The house where my son grew up was as picturesque and reminiscent of a small town as you could imagine. It had a wraparound porch and a big backyard with a lush garden.