A Home for my Heart (Matters of the Heart #3)

by Velvet Reed

  I was so lost in our sweet reunion, in memories of us together and visions of our future, that I couldn’t comprehend what I was hearing. It was only when she took my face in her hands and demanded that I open my eyes that my heart plummeted.

  “My name’s Katrina,” she said, and even in my drunken stupor, I realized what a colossal fuck up I just made. I pushed her off me and apologized profusely for what had just happened. As I hurriedly pulled some clothes on, I silently thanked the lord that my semi flaccid dick never ventured into the danger zone. What I just did was bad enough but if I had actually had sex with this woman, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

  After apologizing again, seeing Katrina out and safely into a cab, I returned to my room and promptly scrubbed myself clean in the shower. I stood under the jets and let the steaming water pound my muscles for a long time. I sobered up real damn quick after Katrina said her name and as I stood there in the shower, going over and over the images I had of Ashley, my heart skipped and my stomach dropped. Those images made me realize I loved Ashley.

  I’m in love with Ashley Brookes and the first time I actually said the words out loud, it was to a naked stranger who I was moments away from having sex with, in a place that resembles nothing like home.

  The only reason I came back in here tonight was because the hotel room has become so damn lonely and I couldn’t stand being there for another minute. I almost asked to change rooms this morning but I didn’t think they’d accept not wanting to sleep in the bed where you nearly had sex with some strange woman as a good reason. So I’ve just avoided the room all day.

  I can’t stop thinking. About Ashley. About the future I want with her. About a family. My family.

  I made yet another astounding realization that I do in fact have a family that I walked away from as well. Olivia and John Tierney may not be my biological parents but they’re the only real parents I’ve ever had. They may have taken me in and adopted me when the Evans’ died, but I realized in the early hours of this morning that they never would have done that if they didn’t want to. They could have easily let me become a child of the system but they made me a part of their family. They gave me just as much attention as Cole and April and ensured I had every opportunity they had as well.

  The Tierneys love me as their own, no matter what my last name is, or what blood runs through my veins. I’m part of them and I threw it all in their face. I’m a fucking idiot.

  “You want a beer or are you just going to stick to the soda?” Lance, the bartender, who I’ve come to know a little, asks me.

  “Just the soda.” I motion with the glass, not particularly in the mood for conversation.

  When Lance goes to serve another customer, my mind starts to wander back to Ashley and the fact that I didn’t even tell her I was leaving. It’s past the middle of November and I haven’t said one word to her or tried to contact her in over three months. Does she think about me? Does she still love me? Would she forgive me if I went back and explained why I had to leave?

  “Okay, out with it,” Lance interrupts, picking up my empty soda glass and replacing it with a shot of amber liquid. “I may not have known you long but I can tell something’s different.”

  Lance knows that I walked away from my life. He knows that I walked away from a woman but that’s it.

  “Just have a lot on my mind,” I tell him, hoping he’ll leave it at that.

  “I can see that. You thinking about home?”

  “Yeah, I am,” I admit. “Just trying to decide if it’s time to go back and fix things.”

  Lance’s brows raise and his eyes widen. “How long you been away now?”

  I eye the shot glass, even though I promised myself that I wouldn’t drink again after last night’s little fiasco.

  “A little over three months,” I mumble, and the thought disgusts me. Without thinking I pick up the glass and shoot it back.

  “Another?” Lance offers, holding up the scotch bottle, ready to pour.

  I’m just about to decline when my phone pings with a message. I pull it out of my back pocket as Lance fills the glass again even though I didn’t answer. Looking down at the screen I see it’s from Cole. Damn, I miss him. I’ve ignored so many calls and texts from him and I never felt guilty about it before… but now I do. If I want to make things right and move on with my life, then I need to make changes. Starting now. Unlocking the screen, I tap the message app and open the one from Cole.

  Cole:If you don’t want to lose her completely, you’d better get your ass back here a.s.a.p.

  What the fuck? Is he talking about Ashley? Has she met someone else and moved on already? My grip on the phone tightens and my heart constricts, causing unbearable pain. I can’t lose her. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved, and while yes, I’ve only just realized that I do in fact love her with everything I am, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Ashley’s everything I’ve ever wanted, she’s everything I need. Even if I have the Tierneys, the only way I’ll ever be complete, be whole, is with her by my side every day for the rest of my life. I won’t lose her. I send him a quick message back for clarification.

  Sam: Ashley?

  It only takes a few seconds for his reply.

  Cole: So you finally decide to reply!

  Damn it!

  Sam: Are you talking about Ashley?

  Cole: I’m good. Thanks for asking! So is the rest of your family, including your godson.

  Just answer the damn question… please.

  Sam: Cole!

  Cole: Yes, I’m talking about Ashley. She’s not going to wait around forever.

  I hold on to a tiny ray of hope that she hasn’t met someone else but I need to know.

  Sam: Has she met someone?

  It feels like forever before his reply comes through.

  Cole: You could say that. We all miss you, Sam.

  His response isn’t a clear yes or no, so maybe I still have a chance. Then another thought occurs to me… What if she’s had sex with this person? My gut turns and I have the urge to vomit, but I send one last quick reply.

  Sam: Okay.

  “You all right, Sam? You’re as white as a ghost.”

  I look up at Lance and everything becomes crystal clear. I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up big time. Now it’s time to be the man John and Olivia Tierney taught me to be. I take out my wallet, hastily throw more money than needed on the bar and put my hand out to shakes Lance’s. “It’s been nice knowing you, Lance, but I’m going home.”

  Lance nods in approval and takes my hand. “Good luck, man. I hope everything works out.”

  I’m out on the street walking back to my hotel room with a new sense of determination. I’m going home. I’m going to fix things with my family and most importantly, I’m going to beg, grovel and do everything I can to convince Ashley how sorry I am for leaving and how much I need and love her. Then I’m going to spend every day for the rest of my life reminding her.

  I left the hotel the following morning. The drive back took almost nine hours after a few stops and hitting traffic. Surprisingly, I slept better that night after leaving the bar than any other night since I left Olivia and John’s house. When I pulled up at my apartment building, I saw it with new eyes. The building wasn’t welcoming by any means and when I opened my door and stepped inside my living room I couldn’t believe the starkness of the room. It was hard to believe I actually lived here.

  There was a huge pile of mail on the dining table, which could only mean that someone was dropping by to keep an eye on the place and collect it. A closer look around showed me that the entire place was clean. Not one speck of dust could be seen, the fridge was empty and sparkling, and there was a pile of folded laundry on the foot of my bed. Olivia. I yelled at her, accused her of terrible things, threw her years of love and care in her face and walked away, yet she still came to my place and took care of it. I owe her so much.

  I spent the next day going through the m
ountain of mail, taking a trip to the grocery store and even contacting the hospital about work. It was another thing I missed while I was away. Not so much the long hours but the patients, the babies, watching a couple welcome their little one into the world and their family. Fortunately, my superiors have been very understanding about my unexpected and prolonged leave. They’re welcoming me back with open arms, so in another week I’ll be returning to my normal roster. I guess it pays off to be a part of John Tierney’s family and have the same work ethics he does.

  I’ve been back two days and I haven’t told anyone. Now here I am, sitting in my car outside the home I grew up in from the age of twelve, and I’m scared shitless to go inside. I was nervous but confident on the drive over here but now I’m nervous and nauseous. I know John will be home from work by now and they’re probably getting ready to sit down for dinner. I left it until this evening so I could make sure that none of the others would stop by. Well, I’d hoped they wouldn’t. I have a lot of apologizing and explaining to do and Olivia and John, especially Olivia, deserve my full attention.

  Taking a few more deep breaths to bolster my confidence, I open the door and get out of the car. I don’t make it more than three strides when the light on the porch flicks on and the door opens, revealing a stunned looking Olivia. I continue my trek to where she’s standing but stop at the foot of the stairs and simply look at her. She’s noticeably thinner and her face seems different, older maybe, or just lacking her usual joyful demeanor. I stare at this woman. This woman who tried to comfort me when I was grieving, who showed me love, tender care and affection. Who stood by me when I struggled and celebrated with me when I succeeded. Who always believed in me and stood up for me. I’m staring at my mom and I’m so overcome with emotion that, for the first time since I was very young, I crumble and feel tears escape my eyes.

  An audible gasp pierces through the quiet of the evening and before I can make a move, she’s hurrying to me, tears streaming down her face and throwing herself into my arms. I wrap her tightly in my embrace and hold on for dear life, fearful that if I let go she’ll disappear. “Oh, Sam,” she sobs into my shoulder. “You’re home. You finally came home.”

  I’ve been so blind for so long. Deluding myself into thinking something that wasn’t even close to my reality. I took the family I had right in front of me for granted, never allowing myself to fully accept what was given freely and with nothing but love.

  “I’m sorry,” I cry. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for leaving, for everything I said.” I choke on a sob. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t…”

  “Shhhh. It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” she comforts me.

  We stand there for long minutes, me unable to say anything more as the deluge of tears continue to fall without any sign of stopping and Olivia sobbing between soothing words of solace. I can’t remember the last time anyone held me like this, when I allowed anyone to hold me, but I have no doubt it was Olivia then as well.

  When I feel another set of arms encircle both myself and Olivia I look to my right and come face to face with John. His eyes are a little glassy and he gives me a concerned smile before saying, “Welcome home, son.” And although he’s always called me son, it suddenly holds an entirely new meaning. I am his son and he is my dad.

  Finally, after my waterworks subside considerably and we’ve all gathered ourselves in to a calmer state, we make our way into the house, Olivia with her arm around my waist on one side and John with his arm around my shoulders on the other. I’m not alone. I’m not a nobody. I have parents who love me.

  In the living room, Olivia sits beside me on the couch and John pulls an armchair over until he’s directly in front of us. They sit there, looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak first but I honestly don’t know where to start.

  “You look different,” John says, breaking the ice. “Fitter.”

  “I’ve been running a lot,” I confess. “Probably too much.”

  He nods in understanding. “So you’ve been well?” he enquires and I know he’s not just asking about my physical health, so I respond with open honesty. It’s time I let them in.

  “Physically, yes. I didn’t turn to alcohol or anything like that. Emotionally… Let’s just say I’ve done a complete one-eighty from the day I left here.” I turn to Olivia overwhelmed with my remorse. “I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted that day. For the way I spoke to you and all the things I said.”

  She rubs my arm that she hasn’t let go of since we sat down. “You were hurting, honey. I know that,” she tries to placate.

  “Yes I was, but that didn’t give me any right to hurt you in return. I’m not trying to excuse my behavior because I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, but to have that woman turn up out of nowhere and give me that information… shocked just doesn’t begin to cover what I felt. My world was completely tipped on its axis and I was angry. So goddamn angry, I couldn’t believe that you knew the Evans’ weren’t my real parents and you didn’t tell me.”

  I glance between their anguished faces and then Olivia replies, “We’re sorry, too, Sam. Sorry that you found out the way you did and even more sorry that we never told you years ago. But everything I said to you that day was true. We were trying to protect you from being hurt more. Yes, we knew Rochelle and Mark weren’t the most loving parents but they were still the only parents you had, and they were gone. Your whole life changed and you became part of our family. We didn’t want to make things harder for you.”

  “I know that now, and I guess I can understand where you were coming from. I just didn’t handle it well.” I stop and take a deep breath. “You two are the only real parents I’ve ever had. You’ve done everything for me and have always treated me like your son. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realize that. I want you both to know how thankful I am that you adopted me. How much I appreciate being part of this family and how much…” My tears break free again, causing me to stutter the last part. “How much I love you. Because I do. You’re my mom and dad, and I love you both.”

  Once again I find myself wrapped in their arms, all three of us crying unabashedly. “I don’t know if I’m crying more because that’s the first time you’ve ever said you loved us or because it’s the first time you’ve ever called us mom and dad,” Olivia says.

  John makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “I think it’s a tie, Livie. I think it’s definitely a tie.”

  I’ve never experienced a moment like this before in my life. While some men might feel embarrassed by losing their emotions the way I’ve just done, I definitely don’t. After all the years of keeping my feelings locked up inside and never dealing with them or letting them break loose, the release I’ve just experienced has left me feeling oddly liberated. Like a huge weight has just been lifted off me and I’m free. I’ve always refrained from displaying how I truly felt, but I’m learning that it’s okay to show that I’m vulnerable… even though I’m a man.

  After a little more discussion of where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing, we end up sitting down and having dinner together. They fill me in on what’s been happening with everyone else, but don’t mention Ashley, which I’m equal parts anxious and relieved about. John asks about work and tells them that I’ve already sorted that out and start back in a week’s time. The conversation is effortless. It’s like they’ve forgiven and forgotten already. I certainly won’t forget that easily and I certainly won’t take them for granted ever again.

  When I’m leaving a few hours later, I try to apologize yet again, only to be engulfed in more hugs and told by each of them that they love me and they’re happy I’m home. I wish them goodnight, calling them mom and dad and promise to call tomorrow.

  Driving back to my apartment I can feel the goofy, happy smile on my face. I’ve made things right with my parents and they’ve accepted me back into the family. That might be the easiest part of coming back and my smile fades a little as I realize
that I still have to face Cole, April and the others, although I’m slightly confident that after some berating they’ll be okay. I know in my heart, though, that the absolute hardest part is still ahead of me because I have a feeling I’m going to have to fight with everything I am to get Ashley back.

  Thanksgiving. I can’t believe how fast time seems to be flying by lately. We’re back at Cole and Gracie’s for today’s celebration and again, everyone is here. The guys are all talking football and watching the game on television in the living room. The kids are running around and playing except for Cooper, who is with the men, already being schooled in all things football and us woman are in the kitchen, drinking wine and chatting.

  Today feels different to Halloween. For one thing, Olivia’s considerably happier than she was a month ago and that twinkle is starting to return to her eyes. Everyone else seems more relaxed and me? Well, I’m getting on with things.

  “Ash, can you help me put these last few things on the table, please?” Gracie asks, as she picks up a tray with condiments and what not, motioning with her head for me to follow her. She’s been giving me surreptitious glances since I got here, and I can see the questions burning inside her.

  “This looks beautiful, Gracie,” I praise, as we enter the dining room and I take in the decorations and table set up. It looks like the perfect Thanksgiving picture from a magazine. I don’t know how she finds the time to do these things.

  “Thanks,” she beams. “Olivia…” She stops herself and shakes her head. “I mean Mom. I should be used to calling her that by now.” She chuckles in self-deprecation. “Anyway, they came over early and helped set up. She said we needed to make everything perfect because we have so much to be thankful for this year.”

  Weird! “She does look much better than she did at Halloween,” I comment while still pondering why she thinks we have so much to be thankful for. I mean, the last few months haven’t been great for her.