Page 22 of Best Kept Vows (Savannah’s Best #6)

Sebastian

T he silence at home was deafening.

Lia’s absence was immense. Even when we’d been at our worst, she was still here. A presence in the same space. Now, it was just me and the quiet, and I hated it.

I was standing in the kitchen, staring blankly at the half-empty coffee pot that we’d shared this morning when the doorbell rang.

I opened it to find Ada standing on the porch, sunglasses perched on her head, a tote bag slung over one shoulder, and resolve in her eyes.

“Hey.” I hugged her and held on for a long moment. “I love that you’re here, but?—”

“Mama told us to check in on you.” She sidestepped me and went into the kitchen. “Damn, I was hoping you had coffee.”

“I’ll make a fresh pot.” As I did that, Ada sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter. The same one Lia had been sitting on before she left.

“How are you doin’, Dad?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know what to say. I was surprised that Lia had told Ada and Tristan, or maybe I wasn’t so surprised. They were close. There was a time when we were all close, but I’d squandered that away in the past three years.

Ada studied me thoughtfully. “You have the look of a lost puppy.”

I let out a low chuckle. “I’m going to be fine, Ada. Your mama and I are going to be fine.”

“Uh-huh.” She pulled out her phone and called her brother. “Hey, Tris, putting you on video.”

“Dad, how’s it going?” Tristan’s face filled the phone screen.

While Ada looked like Lia, Tristan was all me. Dark hair, blue eyes, and that nose, which was a Boone family male trait.

“Son.”

It was odd as heck that my kids were taking care of me when my wife left me. It was all kinds of fucked up that they were playing parent to my broken heart.

“How is New York?” I decided to change the subject.

But my son wasn’t having any of it. “Mama said she packed enough for a couple of months.”

“Yeah.”

“So, that’s just two months. Sixty days ,” Tristan pointed out .

A lifetime!

The machine dinged, indicating the coffee was ready. I poured two cups and handed one to Ada.

Ada added, “Dad, you ignored her for three years. I think it’s okay if she needs time to figure out her priorities. “

But what if she never comes back? How the fuck am I going to survive?

“I know. And I’m…supportive of what she needs to do.” I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles white. “Kids, I don’t want to discuss our marriage with you. It’s?—”

“Oh, please, Dad, don’t start the whole this is inappropriate shit,” Tristan pleaded.

“Tristan, I?—”

“Just be honest, ‘cause you sound like crap,” he spoke over me.

“My wife of twenty-two years left me, so yeah, I feel like crap,” I snapped.

Ada shot me a look of mock exasperation. “ Finally , he’s not pretending he’s okay.”

“Thanks for the support,” I quipped, trying to sound light, though my voice cracked just a little.

Still, I saw the humor in it—and more than that, I felt the warmth bloom in my chest as it hit me: Lia had called them .

She’d asked them to check on me. One more quiet act of love from a wife who, no matter the distance between us, never stopped caring.

Tristan chuckled. “Look, I know this is rough, but you need to pull yourself together. Mama’s doing what she needs to do. ”

I drank some coffee. “So, we’re gonna talk about this?”

“Yeah, Dad, we’re talking about you and Mama.” Ada smiled softly. “You know you’ve been MIA?”

“I know.”

“Why did you even take over the company?” Tristan wanted to know.

“It’s the family legacy,” I protested.

Tristan made a face. “A legacy, by definition, is meant to be passed down to future generations. I’m gonna be honest: neither Ada nor I are interested in Boone Metals or the corporate-slash-business world.

I’m thinking about going to law school to become a public defender.

But until I figure out my next step, I’m working as a social worker.

Ada’s studying public policy—she wants to be a public servant. ”

“So, the question is,” Ada picked up from her brother, “who the hell are you working yourself to the bone for? Is it Birdie?”

I sent her a flat, unimpressed stare. “You know it’s not.”

“Then what?” Ada asked, exasperated. “Why is Boone Metals so important that you let it ruin your marriage? I mean…I don’t get the whole family thing, and I grew up in Savannah.”

“Never understood why you kept wanting to keep the peace between Mama and Grandma,” Tristan added.

“I feel like I’m in a therapy session,” I tried for levity.

Tristan huffed out a sharp breath. “Dad, Mama still loves you, you know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, son, I do. And I love her.”

Desperately .

So, fucking much.

“Look, Dad, no matter what happens between you and Mama, we know that we have two loving parents.” Ada’s eyes filled with quiet affection.

“I know, baby girl.”

“But we’re hoping you’ll stay married because you both are good together,” Tristan interjected. “Don’t get me wrong, neither of you is perfect?—”

“Thank God for that!” I said with feigned mockery.

“Well, I am perfect,” Ada mused, fluttering her eyelashes.

“Mama and I are going to go to couples counseling,” I informed them because I could see they were worried about their mother and me.

“That’s good.” Tristan nodded approvingly.

Ada studied me for a long moment.

“What?” I asked.

She smirked. “You and I are going to spend today goofing off.”

“Goofing off?” I echoed inquiringly.

“You work too hard. And you know what they say about Jack when he’s all work and no play?” Ada smiled, which reminded me of her mother.

“It makes you dull, Dad,” Tristan called out.

“Alright. I can goof off for a day,” I agreed, charmed by the effort our kids were putting into me. I was also grateful to Lia for this. She’d raised our children to be compassionate and affectionate. The difference between Ada and Birdie was about a million light years.

“Good,” Tristan remarked. “Ada’s going to drag you out, and you’re going to let her. Do whatever she says. And Dad?”

“Yeah, son?”

“You don’t have to worry about us. We’re here. We always will be. Focus on Mama.”

I swallowed hard. “Thanks, Tristan.”

Ada ended the call and set her phone aside.

“Okay, old man.” She looked mighty pleased with herself. “We’re going out.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Out where?”

“It’s summer. It’s a Saturday. We’re going to the Forsyth Farmers’ Market like proper Savannahians, and then we’re taking a walk through the park. You need sun, you need fresh air, and you need to stop looking like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” It actually sounded excellent, like what Lia and I should’ve been doing on our weekends instead of me working, as my kids put it, “down to the bone.”

“Yep. And then we’re getting ice cream. No arguments.”

“I’d never dream of arguing over ice cream.”

This was precisely the kind of distraction I needed today.

Thank you, Lia, for thinking of this for me.

Ada drove us in my car, leaving her Mini Cooper at the house because her AC was causing her grief. “It’s going for service on Monday,” she assured me when I asked her to keep my car and let me drive hers.

Ada led the way through the farmers’ market, pointing out homemade jams, fresh produce, and pastries from local bakeries.

“See?” she said, elbowing me as we walked. “The sunlight didn’t kill you.”

“I’m not a vampire.”

She let out a low laugh. “But the way you’ve been hiding in your study, Dad, has made us all wonder.”

I huffed out a breath. “I let you all down.”

Ada put her arm around my waist and leaned into me. “Dad, I think the person you let down the most is yourself.”

I kissed her hair. “You’re right, sweetheart.”

“I’m also proud of you for ditching Grandma’s torturous Sunday dinners.”

This time, my laugh was full and genuine. “Mama told you about that debacle?”

“Actually, Hendrix did,” Ada explained. “I’d gone to see Grandpa, and he gave me the lowdown.”

My heart clenched. My daughter made time for my father when I hadn’t. “Kid, you’re amazing, you know that?”

“I do know that,” Ada preened. “Hendrix also told me that Grandpa cheered up when you went to see him.”

“I’ve been so busy with Boone Metals that…

I just didn’t have time.” For anyone. Even for myself.

And now my kids were asking who I was protecting this legacy for, and I didn’t have any answer.

The business was failing, and every time I thought I could make it work, and we saw some success, something else broke down. I felt like I was playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Oh, we have to try this.” Ada dragged me off to try artisan honey, which I had to admit was good, and then convinced me to buy peaches, saying Lia would love them.

“You know your mother isn’t at home.” I tilted my chin toward the peaches.

“But you know where she works and lives, and you can visit her tomorrow or Monday,” Ada suggested with a wink.

“Is this your version of The Parent Trap ?” I queried, my eyebrows raised.

“Absolutely,” Ada confirmed with gusto.

I bought a bag of peaches.

I enjoyed my daughter’s company.

The warmth of summer settled around us, and Forsyth Park was alive. The towering oaks draped in Spanish moss provided plenty of shade, and the fountain in the center gushed in steady, calming streams while Ada told me about her classes and an internship she was doing at the mayor’s office.

Like Lia, Ada was witty and vivacious. However, unlike Lia, who was an introvert, my daughter was an extrovert who thrived in the company of people. At her age, she was way more confident than Lia and even me, which I was grateful for. Both Tristan and Ada were better people than their parents.

After we wandered the market, we stopped for ice cream at Leopold’s. I let Ada order for me, and she handed me a cone with butter pecan, her favorite.

I took a bite and sighed. “This is good.”

“You’re welcome,” she said smugly.

We found a shaded bench in the park and settled in, eating our ice cream as we watched families stroll past, runners weave along the paths, and kids chase after dogs.

Ada licked her ice cream and then, as if she was weighing her words, sighed deeply. “You know, growing up, I used to sometimes get frustrated with Mama for not standing up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seemed unaware of all the things she did. You also seemed unaware of how Aunt Coco and Grandma were—pardon my language, Dad—complete bitches to her.”

I hadn’t been unaware—just unwilling to prioritize my wife’s feelings. And now, the shame of it settled heavily inside me. I’d chosen peace with my mother over the woman I vowed to love and protect. That truth was impossible to ignore any longer.

“I asked Mama why she put up with all that and didn’t put her foot down. She said that she loved you, and you loved her—and in any relationship, you had to take the good with the bad. The good outweighed the bad for her.”

“Until it didn’t,” I murmured.

My daughter had just put Lia’s and my situation in perspective with those few words.

I finished my ice cream and successfully two-pointed the napkin into a trash can .

“Do you love Mama?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “With everything I am.”

She smiled, small but understanding. “Then show her. No big speeches, no promises. Just show her every single day.”

I let out a slow breath and nodded. “I will.”

She patted my arm. “Good. Now, let’s take a selfie for her.”

I chuckled, wrapping an arm around my daughter as she snapped the picture. Ada sent the photo to Lia with a message: Dad and I are having fun!! We both love you.

Lia responded almost immediately: I wish I were with you. I love you both, too.

My wife needed space, but she hadn’t shut the door on us. Thanks to my kids, I had been reminded of what I’d been too blind to see before—my legacy wasn’t Boone Metals; it was my relationship with my wife and my children.

As Ada and I held hands while we watched a musician play Que Sara, Que Sara on his guitar in the middle of the park on a beautiful summer’s day in Savannah, I finally understood, with a clarity I didn’t have before, that to win back my wife, I needed to start by being a better man, for not just her, but also for Ada and Tristan.

But even more important than all that? I needed to do this for myself so that I could be the best version of myself, one I could be proud of.