Page 126

"I wanted to see you one more time."
"How did you know I'd be here?"
"Because it's where you come on Sunday mornings, unless a woman keeps you occupied elsewhere. But it seems like you've lost your woman."
He gave his father a dark look. "Have you been following me again?"
"I like to keep an eye on you."
"You almost got me fired."
"Almost?"
"No one wanted to come down on me too hard since I'd just brought them not only Arthur's killer but a serial killer," he admitted.
"I was hoping that was the way it would play out."
"What are you really doing here?"
His dad gave him a long look. "I don't know. I should have left. I told myself to go a dozen times. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was. I'm not sure I ever said that. I tried to explain myself. I tried to make you understand. But I don't think I actually apologized."
"Sorry doesn't mean anything."
"I figured it wouldn’t, but I had to say it at least once. Will you tell your mother you saw me?"
"She's happy now, Dad. She has moved on. I don't think she needs to know any more than she already does." The more he'd thought about his dad's publishing company scheme, the more he'd come to think that his mom had known his dad was behind it all along. Maybe he'd ask her one day, or perhaps he wouldn't. He didn't need to screw up her life by bringing up the past.
"You're a fine man, Flynn. That's not due to me, but I want you to know I'm proud of you."
"I don't care," he said automatically.
His father nodded. "All right. I just have one more thing to say."
"Somehow, I doubt that," he said dryly.
His father smiled, and in that moment, the years in-between, the anger and the pain, faded away. He was with his dad again, someone he'd looked up to, the person who'd first brought him to the ocean and taught him how to surf.
"We had some good times when you were young, especially out here," his father said, obviously going down the same memory lane.
"It felt like it was just the two of us," he murmured. "It was our thing."
"Every time I go into the water, wherever I am in the world, I think about you, Flynn. I hope you can have a happy life, a better life than I ever had. I hope you won't hide yourself from love, from people who could hurt you if you open your heart up to them. That would be my worst legacy to you."
"I'll live my life on my own terms. I won't make my choices because of anything you did."
"Good. One last ride together?"
He should have said no, but when his father started paddling, so did he. They stood up on their boards within seconds of each other and rode the wave all the way into the shore.
When he hit the ground, he jogged out of the water, with his surfboard under his arm.
And this time, he was the one who didn't look back.
* * *
Sunday night, Flynn drove to Callie's apartment a little past eight. He felt more nervous than he'd ever felt in his life. He could face down a bullet or a bomb. He could freefall from a skyscraper. He could jump out of a plane. But facing love…that was absolutely terrifying.
Callie's car was in her garage, and her lights were on. That was a good sign. He knew Juliette had been discharged from the hospital and had gone home a few days ago. Savannah had stopped by to speak to her and had reported that she was doing very well, and that Arthur's funeral was scheduled for next Tuesday. He probably should have waited until after that to speak to Callie, but after talking to his dad, he'd wondered if he was waiting because he had a good reason or because he was a coward.