Nothing had ever been so clear and so fast. He felt like a complete idiot now. All this time, he’d secretly been banking on the possibility that, deep inside, what he thought he felt from Sofie last summer had been real. Even when she’d taken it back just before he left again, making it clear she’d only been curious, his delusional heart was convinced she was just covering up—clearing her conscience.

The painful truth had never been so infuriatingly clear. She’d only been curious about what it’d be like to be with someone like him, someone she’d never take seriously in real life. So she’d used the opportunity with his desperate ass to indulge that forbidden curiosity.

Throwing his dad’s meds on the passenger seat, he banged on the steering wheel. He’d almost done what he held back from doing all his life—something he’d promised his dad he wouldn’t even do at his funeral—for a girl who never gave a shit about him. He’d almost broken down.

He finally understood what his father had meant all those years. That kind of deep emotion—the kind he felt suffocating his heart at that moment—was sacred. It was something that should remain deep inside. No one had a right to know you were feeling it but yourself. Showing it was a sign of weakness. That’s exactly how he felt at that moment, like the weakest most pathetic idiot on the planet. At that moment, he vowed once again he’d never let anyone—no matter what—witness this side of him again.

* * *

It wasn’t even a week after he’d reported back to Georgia when he got the call. His dad had passed, and just like that, Brandon was back on a plane to attend the services. As expected, not too many people showed up. His father had never made many friends, and as hardened and difficult as he’d become over the years, any acquaintances he did have once upon a time had distanced themselves from him long ago.

Brandon took solace in the fact that he and his dad had finally begun to actually have a real father-son relationship, even though his dad had passed too soon afterward. He and his mom would move to Georgia permanently and start all over again. Maybe now he could rekindle that bond he once had with her. His mom had been the only one in his life to ever show him love. He’d felt it from her through and through. Brandon was determined to turn his life around—take away all the negativity that had built up all these years and live a normal happy life. Now that it was just he and his mom, he knew that could happen. She’d been waiting for this change as long as he had.

Days after the services, they somberly finished packing up the U-Haul truck with all their belongings. Brandon would be driving it across the country. He wished that on such a long drive he and his mother could be in the same car. It would be a perfect way to start getting to know each other once again—talk about their new life and the neighborhoods they’d be shopping for their new home—but his mother would be driving their mini-van across the country.

Brandon had been tempted to rent a trailer and just haul the van as well, not just because he was looking to really talking to his mom but because she’d always been a nervous driver. The longest drive she’d ever made was just over two hours up north to Los Angeles. Still, she insisted she’d be fine.

“We’ll just take it nice and slow,” she smiled, squeezing his arm before getting in the van.

She wasn’t kidding about the nice and slow part. Eight hours later they’d barely made it a little past Tucson. He had a week to get back to the base. At this rate, it was going to take them twice that long.

As the clerk at the hotel they’d be staying at for the night looked up the room, Brandon leaned against the counter. “Maybe I should rent that trailer, Ma.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.”

Brandon shook his head. “It’s not that. I think it would speed up the trip. I only have until Monday to report back. At the rate we’re going, it’ll be at least Thursday before we get there.”

“You think so?” His mother frowned. “We had a bad start today. Tomorrow we’ll get up super early and see how far we get. If you still think we have to by the end of the night, we can rent one.”

Exhaling, he gave in with a nod. After getting their things in their room, they left again to grab something to eat. During dinner, his mother told him about his father’s last dying wish. “Aside from the hope that someday you’d forgive him, he wanted grandchildren.”

Chuckling humorously, Brandon shook his head as he scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and ate them. He wouldn’t say it because he was determined to leave that darkness behind him. Saying that was a joke, considering what a rotten father his dad had been his whole life, would definitely darken the mood. His father had taught him nothing about being a man much less a father. While he’d be eternally grateful to his superiors in the Marines who had showed him what honor and integrity were and had turned him into the man he was now, it wasn’t enough, not enough to erase the only example of a father he’d ever had. It didn’t take away that his father’s blood ran through his veins and the fact that he may very well turn into him someday.

“He said he knows you never really got to experience what a bond between a father and a child should really be, so he wants you to experience it with your own child.”

Fighting the bitterness he felt over that statement, he almost gave in to retorting like he wanted to. “Yeah, well just ’cause he fu—”He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, and decided to start over instead. “I don’t think that’ll happen, but—”

“Why not?” His mother touched his hand and smiled weakly. “I’d love grandchildren too. And honey,” she paused until he’d look her in the eyes, “despite what you remember of your father, he did have a heart. I know it’s very hard for you to understand why he was the way he was. He had so many personal demons he was fighting, but he did love you. I know what you’re thinking, Brandon.” She squeezed his arm. “You are not your father. No matter how bad things got, you were always such a loving little boy, so mindful and sweet. Remember how you used to tend to me when I wasn’t well?”

Her eyes dropped in pain, and Brandon knew why. He squeezed his hand into a fist. All those times he’d tended to her weren’t because she wasn’t well. Most of those times, she was hurt—injured because of his asshole dad. As if she’d read his mind, she looked up and patted his arm.

“Regardless of why you were tending to me, Brandon, whether it was because I was banged up or was nursing a cold, you were still so attentive and looked after me so thoroughly. Do you remember how you used to bring me flowers from the backyard every time?”

Brandon gnashed his teeth. He couldn’t even look at her now. Yes, he remembered, so he nodded but said nothing.

“Look at me right now, Brandon,” she said.

He didn’t want to, but he finally did. His mother wasn’t that old, but those eyes had lived through so much they were worn and tired beyond her years. Lowering her hand, she undid his tightened fist and slid her hand into his then looked up at him again. “Your father never did any of that. He didn’t feel things like you did. I want you to remember that always. You have a wonderful heart capable of loving and feeling the things he never could admit he did. You’ll make a wonderful husband and daddy. I know it.”

Swallowing hard, Brandon looked away from her hopeful eyes and moved his food around on his plate. As much as he’d like to believe that, he just couldn’t. Even though he’d hated his father for so many years for being so cold and having such an impenetrable exterior, a part of Brandon knew he was a lot like his father. He hadn’t shed a tear when the man died, and something told him he never would again. It’s why he wanted to start all over. He didn’t want to become his father, but he knew he’d never change enough, and he wouldn’t put another human being through what his father had put him and his mother through. But for the sake of avoiding the deep shit he had no intention of getting into on this trip, he shook his head.

“I don’t think it’s in the cards for me, Ma.” He shrugged. “I’d just as soon concentrate on my career in the Marines—the only thing I’ve ever been good at. Everything else in my life so far . . .” He shook his head, swallowing in the bitterness. “Having my own family is not something I anticipate ever happening.”

His mom was silent for few moments before picking up her water glass and drinking. “I think Shakespeare said it best when he said, ‘What’s past is prologue.’”

Brandon didn’t look at her. Growing up reading books and poetry had been his escape. He’d read enough Shakespeare to know what that meant, but it didn’t apply to his past. His was too fucked up.

“It’s like fate, son. The past has set the stage for what’s to come.”

Again he laughed humorlessly. “Then that’s pretty fucked to think about, considering what my past has been like.”

His mom stared at him for a moment. The pained expression said it all, and he knew what she was thinking before she even said it. “I know I failed you—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and throwing his napkin down on his plate. “Let’s not start with this again. You did your best. He was just too damn unpredictable and dangerous. You were only trying to protect me. I get it, Mom, okay? You stuck around because you were afraid he’d come after you and in the process hurt me. We both know it’s what he would’ve done. Look,” he said before she could start again. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, not wanting to look her in the eyes, so he stared down at his glass of water. “Maybe it will happen someday. I’ll stay open-minded for you, okay?” he lied. “If I ever get the chance, I’ll take it.” He glanced up at her still very remorseful eyes. “Okay? Just promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself for the past. You’re right.” He lifted his glass in the air to make a toast. “To our fresh start and to forgetting about the past.”

“Yes.” She squeezed his hand. “Always remember, Brandon, you had no control over what happened in the past. Arm yourself with the lessons that your past—good and bad—has given you, and take control of your future. It’s time to leave all that behind and move onward, son.” She smiled, lifting her glass quickly, but even seeing her immediate change in mood, he couldn’t summon so much as the tiniest of smiles. He forced himself to at least not frown. “To our bright future,” she said, clinking his glass.

Satisfied with their toast, his mother thankfully changed the subject after taking a sip of her water. She started talking about the neighborhoods in Georgia she’d seen online. This was a much better topic. He’d rather think of their new beginning.

* * *

Just as she promised she would, Brandon’s mom was up before dawn. “Let’s get moving, sunshine” she said, holding up her cup of coffee and smiling. “I didn’t make you one because I know you hate the stuff.”

Brandon nodded, grabbing their things and heading out. They were off to a better start this time. Yesterday, his mom had jumped on the freeway heading in the wrong direction, and it was miles before the next exit where she could get off and they could turn around. Maybe this did mean they’d make it there on time after all.

Everything was going smoothly for the first fifteen minutes until his mom swerved suddenly, and Brandon saw she’d blown a tire.

“Fucking great,” he said through his teeth, looking into the rearview mirror.

He turned on his own hazard lights and followed closely behind as she made her way onto the tight shoulder. She made it there, but it took Brandon a few more minutes to park his much larger truck in a way that he wasn’t sticking out into traffic. He glanced up at his mom as he continued to maneuver the big ass U-Haul, but he had to wait until there were no cars coming so he could twist out then back onto the shoulder. His mom stayed put in the car as he mentally ordered her to. She’d be no help coming out anyway.

Groaning at the thought of having to take everything that was so tightly packed in the back of the minivan so he could pull the spare out he decided right there he was done humoring his mom. They were getting a trailer as soon as he replaced her tire. He didn’t have time for all this shit.

He did a double take when he saw the driver’s-side door open and his mom start to get out. “Stay in the van!” he yelled, motioning with his hands, but his window was still closed, and she obviously hadn’t heard him. “God damn it,” he mumbled as his finger hit the button to lower the window.