Page 43 of Unbroken (Poplar Springs #2)

FORTY-ONE

ELI

I t was the last place I wanted to be, but I was going through the arduous pre-packing phase and had discovered a bunch of tools that belonged to my father.

Even though he never lifted so much as a ruler, he had a tool bench complete with every device a contractor could need, and I had found myself borrowing this and that over the years.

The time had come to return it all. I stood on the front porch loaded down with a heavy box, dreading the fake pleasantries and subtle judgment to come.

I was happy I’d dropped Patrick off at my mother’s.

My son still wanted nothing to do with his grandfather and I did not blame him.

For the most part, Patrick’s stomachaches had gotten significantly better, but I was all too aware that they could flare up again.

They always tell you that kids are resilient and bounce back faster than adults, but that didn’t mean I could ignore his feelings or assume everything was automatically all better now.

The door opened right as I was contemplating leaving the mini chainsaw and bolt cutters on my father’s front porch.

“Eli, hello! Finally returning all of your ill-gotten goods? As I always say, neither a borrower nor a lender be. But I guess you don’t follow that rule.”

“Hey, Dad.” I sighed. “I figured if anything broke, you’d call someone to fix it for you, so I didn’t think you’d miss this stuff.” And it wasn’t as if he called asking me to return anything, but it didn’t seem worth it to point that out.

“You might be surprised that your old man is getting handy these days. I actually changed the light bulb in the chapel.”

“Good for you,” I replied, mustering up a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Anyway, I wanted you to have these back. I’m in the middle of packing so …”

“Nonsense, you have time to come in for a cup of coffee with me. I just brewed up a pot. I’m working on this week’s sermon.”

I was about to say no when I realized that in a few short weeks, I’d be gone.

The least I could do was have a quick cup of coffee with the old man—especially since I could comfort myself the whole time with the knowledge that I wouldn’t have to see him anymore after this if I didn’t want to.

No more accidentally running into him in the diner or around town.

“Sure, okay,” I said, following him inside.

My father lived in a tiny house behind the church.

It was as tidy as the man himself, with nothing out of place.

It was far different from the house I’d grown up in, where my mom’s decorating had made everything feel comfortable and homey.

As an adult, I couldn’t understand how two people so different could’ve ended up together.

I got the sense that they sometimes wondered the same thing.

I sat down at the kitchen table while my father poured two cups of coffee.

“Excited to leave, son? ”

“Yep, it’ll be good to get a fresh start.”

“What’s going to happen with that girl?” he asked, sitting down and pushing a mug in front of me.

“You mean Fiona?” I asked, emphasizing her name even though I knew my father remembered it.

“She’s the one who stood you up for prom, right?”

“Ancient history,” I said, still avoiding his original question.

“You know, your whole … scenario … with her feels off to me. She’s a bit too much, if you ask me. You two aren’t really seeing each other, are you? That relationship is some sort of ruse, right? It has to be.”

I was shocked that my father was tuned in to me enough to figure out that my relationship with Fiona had started out fake. I answered him with a shrug.

“Ah-ha, I thought so!” He said, grinning triumphantly.

“You just didn’t seem like a real couple when you were putting on an act at that wedding.

Samuel Carter doesn’t miss a trick. Well, that’s a relief because I never thought she was a good fit for you.

Not back in high school and certainly not now. ”

“And how would you know what’s good for me, Dad? You thought Charlotte was perfect, and she spent a solid year cheating on me.”

“Well, that’s different. That was?—”

“Yeah, it is different,” I answered, feeling my temper rising.

“Fiona is unlike anyone I’ve ever known.

She’s a good woman. No, she’s not just good, she’s amazing .

And yeah, maybe our relationship started off as fake, but it’s grown to be something more real than anything I’ve ever known.

Sure, Fiona has her quirks, but that’s exactly the stuff about her that I’ve grown to—” I started to say the word but stopped short, flustered by the rush of emotions I was experiencing as I defended her.

“We’ve been rivals since we were kids, and we discovered almost too late that we do much better as partners.

She’s been my biggest supporter practically since the day she got back to town.

She works hard and doesn’t take shit from anyone.

She loves her family. She’s been incredible with Patrick”—unlike you.

“You’re wrong about Fiona. She’s not just a good fit for me—she’s the only fit for me. ”

“Well, then we’re going to have to agree to disagree, because once you’re out of my good graces, you’re out for life. She doesn’t get another chance.”

I pushed the coffee cup away from me. “Jesus, Dad, you’re one to talk.”

“Don’t you dare?—”

“What, Dad? Take the Lord’s name in vain or point out that you are one of the biggest hypocrites in this whole damn town? Mom couldn’t wait to get away from you and you still won’t give her the one thing she wants from you: a divorce.”

“That isn’t true. Your mother is simply going through a phase. She’ll be back once she comes to her senses.”

I barked out a laugh. “Are you shitting me? It’s been eight years!

Eight! She keeps the divorce papers clipped to the side of the fridge in hopes of you coming to your senses and finally setting her free and giving her the clean slate she deserves.

But you can’t see past your need to control everything and everyone around you.

If you’d just open your eyes, you’d see how deeply unhappy your family is when we’re forced to be around you. ”

He scoffed. “This is exactly why that girl shouldn’t be allowed around respectable folks. You never would have spoken to me like this if it weren’t for her. ”

I stood up abruptly, nearly tipping over the chair. “You know what? We’re done here.”

I stormed out the door with my father chasing after me, stuttering half-hearted justifications. I jumped into my truck, gave a terse wave, and peeled out of the driveway.

My father was never able to look past appearances. He expected everything to look right, sound right, appear right. But the man wouldn’t know what really was right—what was true and honest and from the heart—if it bit him on the ass.

I thought back to the early days of my relationship with Fiona, and how it had changed as we got older.

What had started off as paste in her pigtails had grown into pranking in high school, and had matured into the solid relationship we had as adults, and it had a single connecting theme: friendship.

The realization came slowly. Everything we’d been through together was based on our mutual affection for each other, even back when our teasing was full tilt.

It was exactly why the gradual change from frenemies to lovers had made me feel so secure.

We both knew that there was no more solid a foundation for a relationship.

I banged my fist on the steering wheel as I sped down the back roads.

What the hell was I doing? I’d been so stuck in the past and worried that I couldn’t count on our relationship, that I couldn’t trust it or her.

While the relationship had started out as fake, Fiona had jumped on the idea as a way to help me.

Her motives were real and generous and consistent right from the start.

I was the one who’d questioned and doubted, second-guessing everything and worrying about what people were going to say about me.

The only thing that should have mattered was what I felt—and whether I could convince her to feel the same way .

The miles passed in a blur. I wasn’t ready to pick up Patrick quite yet. I needed to think through what was going to happen next, and there was no better place to do it than on the open road with the windows rolled down. Because what I was considering needed every bit of my attention.

The fresh start.

Was it truly necessary, or was I running away from imagined problems?

Did I even care what other people thought about me anymore?

I’d stepped back from my father’s example in so many ways, but it seemed this last one still lingered—the idea that I needed to be seen a certain way.

At the end of the day, why did that matter at all?

One of the things I’d picked up from Fiona was the confidence to walk my own path without worrying about what everyone else thought or said.

My new-found confidence was part of the reason why I’d been able to stand up to my father just now.

I squinted into the distance and envisioned setting up my new life in Half Moon.

When I’d first applied for the job, it was all I wanted, but now the thought of it filled me with sadness.

The very things I’d been excited about, like finding new riding spots and meeting people who didn’t know me as the pastor’s son or Charlotte’s cuckold ex-husband, now felt empty.

Because I’d be doing them without her.

I eased my foot off the pedal as everything came into focus. What I needed wasn’t a fresh start after all.

What I needed was Fiona Cafferty in my life—in any way that she would have me.