“Hi, Dad.”

I hadn’t known exactly where I was headed when I drove away from the clubhouse. When I ended up at the cemetery, I wondered if it was that familiar experience of seeing the stark grief in the eyes of someone I loved that led me there.

Or maybe, right now, I just really fucking needed my dad.

I sat on the ground, my back against the side of his gravestone. It was how I’d always talked to him since I was old enough to start coming here alone.

“It’s been a while. My fault, obviously. I should have done better about that.”

I paused, not like I expected him to respond, but just because I wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’m not sure what to fill you in on. I feel like Mom keeps you up to date, or you watch it all yourself. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just here talking to myself because you’re gone. Fuck, I hope that’s not it.

“I came by when I got that spot at Sailor’s Grave. It’s fucking great there. The team is awesome. The art they’re all creating, it pushes me every day. Sketch, my boss, he’s one of the most talented tattooists I’ve ever known personally. I’m finally surrounded by people that love the art the way I do, the way I know you did.”

Dad wasn’t heavily tattooed, not the way I was. None of his were visible when he had a shirt on. He had a few though, all ones that meant something to him. All ones that were done by men he considered masters. Including Sailor’s Grave’s original owner, Carson.

Carson has done the eagle that had adorned the back of Dad’s right shoulder. When I first came to Sailor’s Grave, he’d done one of his rare retirement-breaking days in the shop to give me the same one on the inside of my upper arm.

I looked down at it now, that bit of ink that kept me connected to my dad.

Tattoos had that kind of power, both when you got them, and occasionally when you were the one that gave them

I knew that as well as anyone now.

“Connor’s talking about wanting something done. It freaks Mom out, but I think it’ll be pretty cool. He hasn’t told her yet, but he wants to get a green ribbon for traumatic brain injury awareness. Tracy and I already decided to do it with him. We’re going to plan a time to go together once we can all sit down with Mom and talk to her about it.

“Tracy, our big shot attorney, she’s got a boyfriend. She says he’ll be coming with her when we have that chat. Mom doesn’t know that, either. By all accounts, he sounds like a good guy. If not, I’d say I’ll take care of it, but Tracy can tear him apart six ways I could never think of without lifting a finger.”

I chuckled—or tried to anyway. My heart wasn’t in it.

I wasn’t convinced it was even in my own chest anymore.

It took a while for me to think of what I was supposed to say next. I know Mom would have told him everything about how she was doing, how she felt. Which left only one thing…

“I fell in love. It was stupid and I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Kate—fuck, Dad—you’d love her, too. She’s sweet and beautiful, and she’s got so much sass when she lets it loose. And she works in a bakery of all places.”

I got my sweet tooth from him. When I was a kid, we’d sneak treats from the kitchen, hiding them from Mom. He’d take random trips with me or all three of us to get ice cream or candy.

“She’s a mom. Her son, Owen, is great. He’s so excited by the world. He’s super interested in art right now, that and motorcycles. He’s the light of her world, and I get it. It’s hard not to feel that around him.

“But she’s broken. She loved Owen’s father. She loved him as fiercely as I’ve ever seen. He died in an accident like we lost you, and she’s been lost ever since. My beautiful gypsy girl that can’t find her way out of that grief.”

Except she wasn’t mine, was she?

“I don’t even know what my point is. I guess even if I had to let her go, I need you to know about her. She’s important to me, the first new thing in my life that really mattered. It always seemed silly to come tell you about the day-to-day bullshit, but she’s different. She’ll always be different.

“I wish you could meet her and understand. I wish you could be here to tell me if walking away was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done because I just don’t fucking know. I wish we’d gotten more time.”

That last wish was becoming a little too familiar.

It wasn’t a mystery how I ended up where I did next.

I parked out front of Mom’s house and sat in the car for a long time trying to brace myself. Telling her, having to face a reaction to the news, would be different. But Mom would understand why I had to do it.

When I felt somewhat prepared to deal, I went up to the door and knocked. It didn’t occur to me until right before it opened that I’d even done it. I never knocked at Mom’s. Must’ve been how fucked my head was.

Even Mom was startled to see it was me on the other side of the door, and then her face fell.

“What’s wrong?”

“I had to let her go.”

She didn’t say anything. She just went into full mother hen mode, ushering me inside and putting on a pot of coffee, like serving up something for me to drink while I spilled my guts was going to make the situation better.

Though, once the mug was between my hands, it did. If only because it was comforting, familiar. That feeling got me through telling her everything.

“And the worst part is” —I finished— “I can’t even be mad. I made this choice. I put myself in this position even though I knew this was where I could end up.”

I looked down at the mug that I hadn’t touched. The warmth that had been radiating from it into my hands was fading.

“I think you did the right thing.”

Raising my head, I saw Mom looking out the window.

I wanted to believe that.

“But I also think you’re wrong,” she added, looking back at me.

“What do you mean?”

There was a look on her face, that sympathetic and yet disappointed look that only a mother could give when she thought you’d fucked up or done something stupid.

“You believed her.”

“Yes?” It came out as a question because I had no clue what she was talking about. Yes, I’d believed everything Kate said. She hadn’t said anything I’d have questioned.

“She said she doesn’t love you, and you believed her.”

No. No, not happening.

“Don’t.”

She shook her head. “Now you’re being just as bad.”

“Mom,” I tried.

“I remember that feeling, the defensiveness. When someone would accuse me of getting on with life, which I was. It was what I should have been doing, and they only meant to point out that I was doing well. But it felt like they were saying I didn’t love my husband enough. That if I had loved him the way I should have, moving on wouldn’t be an option.

“When she said that about falling in love, she wasn’t thinking about you, not at all. She was stuck on the insinuation that she didn’t love him because how could she and be feeling those things for someone else?

“We hear so much about ‘one true loves’ and it’s bullshit.” Holy fuck. I didn’t think I’d ever heard my mom swear so candidly. “It sounds great, but if you’ve lost someone, it becomes this trap of feelings like you can never experience those feelings again. I loved your father. I will always love him. He was a wonderful man who gave me three beautiful children, and he gave us so much in the time he had. And it took me a long time to open myself up again and accept it, but I love Derek as well. Feeling that for him doesn’t tarnish what I felt before, and I know you know that.

“Kate, though, she’s still figuring that out. But I’ll tell you one thing, I think she had a very hard lesson in how true that is when you left.”

“Lee…I…”

I remembered the quiet desperation that wrapped around that name, a name that was only for the two of us. I remembered that step toward me.

No, I couldn’t do this. I shut the thoughts down.

“I can’t think like that. I can’t convince myself you’re right and live with this hope that there’s still a chance. I did that once, and I had to face the woman I love, so shattered I’ll never forget the sight.”

My eyes dropped to the table, trying to focus on anything but those images coming to mind again.

It was then I noticed her hand. I reached out without a word, holding it up. The engagement ring Derek had shown me weeks ago was on her finger.

Despite the misery at the state of my own fucked love life, I smiled for her. It didn’t feel natural, not the way it would have even yesterday, but I guess that wasn’t surprising. I wondered how long the numbness would last, or if this was going to be a new normal.

“So he finally asked.”

Her own smile was wistful. “Last night.”

“And you were mad at Tracy for keeping dating quiet?”

She shook her head, not laughing. Though, my delivery was flat to say the least. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around it. I was going to call you both tonight.”

“I’m happy for you, Momma.” That I meant. To the bottom of my heart, I wanted her to be happy. Derek gave that to her. They gave it to each other.

“Thank you, honey.” She looked down at the ring for a long moment, then to me. “I never thought I’d have another ring in this spot, but I came around for the right man.”

I got what she was saying, not that she veiled it all that well. But there was a big difference there. Mom had made the choice to take Dad’s rings off a long time ago. She’d had them framed with a picture of the two of them on their wedding day, but she’d stopped wearing them.

When I’d walked out that door, Kate still had hers on.

And didn’t that say it all?