Page 125 of Bennett

Bennett didn’t let him off the hook.

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice harder now. “You came all this way, so say what you came to say.”

Theo nodded once, slowly, and dropped his gaze to the floor like he needed to gather whatever was left of himself.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“I didn’t come here for redemption,” he said, his voice raw, honest. “I came to own what I ran from.”

His eyes met Bennett’s gaze. There was no fight in them, just regret. Deep and bone-level.

Despite his anger, a little pang of pity flickered through Bennett.

“I should’ve told you everything a long time ago. About the money. About your dad. About my kid.”

Kid?

That word punched something sharp through Bennett’s chest.

Theo didn’t stop. “I didn’t plan it that way. I was nineteen. Scared. Stupid. And when the whole damn thing started crumbling, your dad told me to let him fix it. I didn’t want him to, but I didn’t stop him either.” He shifted, restless, his voice quieter now. “By the time I realized what I’d let happen, it was too late.”

Bennett didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Just kept his gaze on Theo, heart thudding like it had a countdown wired to it.

“You deserved better,” Theo said finally. “So did he.” His voice cracked. “I can’t undo any of it. But I couldn’t live one more year without looking you in the eye and saying it.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m sorry, Bennett. For everything.”

The apology hung in the air like smoke…visible, suffocating, and impossible to ignore.

Bennett stared at the man across the room. The same blood ran through their veins, but in this moment, Theo felt like a stranger wearing a familiar name.

You deserved better.

So did he.

The words echoed, sharp and late. Too many damn years too late.

He leaned back slowly, dragging in a breath. His hands were curled tightly between his knees, the pressure grounding him, but barely.

“I spent a long time trying to make sense of it,” he said. “My dad. The charges. The way he just accepted it.”

Theo didn’t interrupt.

Bennett’s gaze didn’t leave him. “I flew home in uniform, thinking maybe someone had made a mistake. That I’d find some clue, some missing piece that explained why the man I looked up to was suddenly behind bars for taking money from the local agriculture society account. Money that didn’t belong to him.”

His throat burned. He let it.

Laurel sat on a stool by the kitchen island, blanket still wrapped around her, but her gaze never left his. It was full of warmth, sadness, and pain, but also strength. She had his six, no matter what.

This gave him the courage to continue. “But he wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t give me anything. Just told me it was his decision and that it was for the best.” He laughed with a sharp, bitter breath. “I thought Dad was trying to protect me from something. I never realized he was protecting you.”

Theo flinched.