Wilde by Abby Brooks

Chapter Thirty-Two

Leo

What in God’s name compelled me to catch a flight back to Logan just to have dinner at the ranch?

I fucking hate these Wednesday night travesties.

But Jack and Hank have actually been keeping in touch since I left. And Mom makes it clear every single day that she loves me. So maybe they’re why I felt the call to come home. Things in LA haven’t been quite as magical as I expected. It’s fine. I’m busy. Matix is happy with his investment, but something’s missing. It’d be kind of nice to talk to Jack, Hank, or Mom about it and clear my head. As weird as that sounds.

The rest of my brothers haven’t been quite as demonstrative. Frank’s living in San Diego, about a two-hour drive from me. We still haven’t seen each other. Gabe’s just been Gabe and Chet? Well, he’s the one thing I’m dreading about tonight. He’ll either ignore me—annoying—or preach at me—unacceptable.

“What’s going on in there?” Hank knocks on the side of my head, and I jerk away.

“Can you not?”

“I’m just saying. You actually hopped on a flight to be here and have been staring into space for the last ten minutes. If the first thing wasn’t weird enough, the second is making shit awkward as hell.”

Jack shrugs. “He’s got a point. Everything okay?”

I listen to Mom in the kitchen as I chew on the inside of my lip. The woman races from thing to thing, humming to herself with a look of determination while she swears she’s got it all under control. Her dinners are always delicious, and she’ll sit at her place, exhausted but proud as her brood chokes it all down in fifteen minutes or less.

Is that the kind of mother Amy will be? Will she learn how to cook, so her baby, my baby has nutritious meals? Will she sacrifice her energy, her time, to make his life better?

“See. Like that.” Hank waves his hand in front of my face, then turns to Jack, who sits across from him. “I think being here has made him dissociate.”

I refocus on my brothers. “That’s a big word for a man with a brain like a potato.”

“He speaks. But only to lash out, which puts my mind at ease…potato that it is.” Hank grimaces then sits back with a shit-eating grin.

I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “When your business started taking off, did the grind aspect of it go away?”

“Grind?” Hank looks genuinely surprised. “What are you talking about? I love what I do. I don’t think it’s ever felt like a grind. Getting to do more of it just makes my day brighter.”

I press my lips together and exhale through my nose. My days have been anything but bright. Busy, sure, but bright? If anything, it’s like the light has dimmed. “For real though. It can’t be butterflies and rainbows every damn day.” I look to Jack for backup, but he just shakes his head.

“Sure,” says Hank. “Sometimes it’s hard. I’m tired. Or I’d rather spend five or six more hours in bed with Mol. But I feel blessed every day, not to sound like an inspirational poster or anything.”

I huff a laugh. “I thought that’s how moving to LA would feel. Instead?” I shake my head as I rake my hand through my hair. “All I can think about is Amy and the baby. I can’t stop wondering how they’re doing.”

The words are low. Gruff. They scrape against my throat because I have to drag them out.

“I’m not surprised.”

I frown. “Yeah? Well I am.”

“You really loved her, man.” Hank’s voice is quiet. Personal. “And that’s your kid…”

I stand, almost knocking my chair over in the process. The urge to get the fuck out is so strong I pace the dining room a few times before I make it back to the table. I’m tired of running from things and I need to get this shit out of my head before I go crazy. “She never fucking apologized.”

Jack stares at me for a long moment before asking, “Did you give her a chance?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I gave her a chance. Twice. She never said a damn thing.” I scowl. Then scoff. Then rub my hands down my face before gripping the back of my chair. “I literally demanded she apologize.”

“Oh right.” Jack bobs his head. “I forgot how much people like to have that happen. That’s definitely the most productive and emotionally mature way to navigate an important conversation.”

“This care-and-share bullshit is so not me.” And yet, I pull out my chair and sit, folding my arms on the table and dropping my head.

Truth is, I’m exhausted.

I’m confused.

And I’m so tired of fighting to keep everyone out.

All I can hear is Amy telling me that maybe my family feels justified in keeping me at arm’s length because they don’t understand me. So, maybe it’s time to let them in a little. “I kinda got attached to the idea of being a dad.”

Hank throws an arm over the back of his chair. “Have you told Amy that?”

“I haven’t spoken to her in a month. Maybe two.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jack recoils. “Not even to check in and see how the baby is doing?”

“I’ve wanted to. But, man, she…she chose him.”

My brothers blink in confusion.

“She went back to that douche?” Hank finally asks.

“No. At least, not as far as I know. That’s the part that’s driving me crazy. Why’d she choose him over me if she didn’t want to be with the guy?” I stare at my hands. “I still miss her though. I want to go see her. To find out how the baby is. To find out how she is. I want everything to go back to the way it was. I want to prove I’m ready to be a dad.”

The words come out of my mouth in time with the thoughts. They surprise me as much as they surprise everyone else. Leo Wilde doesn’t say what he means. He makes jokes and runs away. Everyone knows that. Even me.

“I don’t know what I missed,” says a gratingly familiar voice behind me, “but from what little I heard, I’d say if you want to prove you’re ready to be a dad, it’s time you stopped acting like a child and grow up.”

I’m out of my chair again, ready to wrap my hands around Chet’s throat and squeeze the condescension right out of him. “Say it one more time. Just one more! I am not acting like a child! I’m successful. I’ve taken all the things that made me so disappointingly different from the rest of you and turned them into a goddamn empire!”

“The last time you were here, you made a scene, announced you were going to be a father, then left. Here you are again, making another scene. How are you not acting like a child?” Chet’s voice is disgustingly calm.

I roll my eyes, my fists clenching. “And how are you not acting like an asshole?”

“I’m telling you what you need to hear.”

“Oh. I see.” I whirl on the man I once looked up to. “And what I need to hear is that I’m immature and irresponsible and that nothing I’ve ever done is enough for you. Over and over for my entire life. Because that’s definitely the way you treat family.” I turn to Jack and Hank for support, then to Mom, who’s leaning in the doorway, looking sad as fuck to have yet another showdown between her oldest and youngest. “Why will no one in this family accept me for who I am?”

Chet crosses his arms. “Because who you choose to be is nowhere close to who you’re capable of being.”

“Because I don’t like horses and ranching? Because I like to draw? Paint? Create?” I square my jaw and stare him down. “Real openminded of you.”

“Because you lash out whenever someone doesn’t say what you want to hear. Because you won’t accept advice unless it comes with a heavy dose of ego stroking. Because you showed up like a drunk fool at my wedding and never thought that was something you should apologize for. If you think that’s the best version of you, then you and me?” Chet gestures between us. “We see Leo Wilde in very different lights.”

And just like that, the dam bursts. “Did you ever stop to wonder why I had to get drunk to make it to your wedding? Why I had to spend the night before your engagement party at a bar with some random chick? I didn’t do it to hurt you, though Lord knows you’re self-important enough to think that. I did it because I have to numb myself past the point of caring just to be near you. Because it fucking hurts my soul to see how much none of you want me. None of you care. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to accept who I am without trying to change it all. I’m not perfect, Chet. Not by a long shot. But it’s not easy knowing everyone who should love me, doesn’t.”

“We love you, Leo…” My oldest brother unfolds his arms while Mom, Jack, and Hank nod their agreement.

“Nothing you have ever said or done feels like love.” I turn to look at the man who’s judged me for decades. “I used to look up to you.”

Chet bobs his head like some wise old shaman. “I remember.”

“All I ever wanted was your approval.”

“You had it,” he replies, head still bobbing.

“Bullshit I had it. You hated me for being artistic. For being different. All you ever wanted was to force me in another direction. In your direction.”

“Leo, all I ever wanted was for you to learn how to be responsible and pull your own weight. I didn’t care what you did in your free time. I was always impressed by your talent, but how could I say that when you used it as an excuse to waste time? Art’s important. The world needs it, but how many times did you let chores slip by in order to finish a drawing? That’s imbalanced. You can’t live that way, shirking responsibility all the time.”

My eyebrows hit my hairline. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Never once, not in all my years have I gotten the sense that you thought art was important. This ranch is the only thing that matters to you.”

“No, Leo.” Chet shakes his head. “Family is the only thing that matters to me.”

“I’m family!” I stab a finger at my chest.

Mom pushes off the wall. “Chet was a young man when your father died…”

“Yeah, well, I was just a kid so maybe you should come to my defense for once.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve always been there for me, Ma.”

Silence descends on the room until Chet lets out a long breath. “I’m not saying I did it right, but damn it, I tried my best. I’m not sure the same could be said for you.”

My natural instinct is to bristle. To blow up and stomp out of the house and swear to never come back. That’s what I always do.

And yet, here I am.

Back.

I always come back.

I think over my life, across all the times Chet and I bumped heads. Him telling me to get out of my room and get to work. The disappointment on his face. The sense that I’d failed him. I always thought he didn’t like me drawing, but here he is telling me he just didn’t like that I was drawing instead of doing my chores? It’s a mindfuck I can’t unravel.

“The only thing I cared about was raising you into the kind of man who deserves the Wilde name. Hardworking. Dependable. Ready to protect his people and put their needs above his. I’ve never seen you put anyone’s needs on top except your own. But Mom’s right. I was a young man. A stubborn man. And if I hurt you, if I didn’t make my intentions clear enough, then I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intent.”

While I should have been reveling in the first real apology I’ve ever gotten from Chet Wilde, his words unleash a flood of thoughts about Amy. Walking out on her during our first baby appointment together. Dragging her along on work events instead of taking her on a real date like she deserved. Even lashing out when she sided with that douchebag Avery was more about me than her. I never even tried to hear her side of things. Fuck. I didn’t even let her speak when she tried to smooth things over.

I stare at Chet, the montage of memories expanding to encompass all the ways I’d pouted and lashed out at him and the rest of my family since Dad died. I’d only ever seen things through the lens of what I lost. But they all lost something, too. And they’d come together while I tore myself out at the roots.

A long sigh escapes my lips. I glance around the room, seeing my family for who they really are for the first time in decades.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Except I do.

I know.

I think a part of me has always known.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say. “I’m sorry for everything.”