Chapter Twenty-Nine
NASH
When Nash Hawthorne woke up the next morning, he felt like a giddy teenager.
His first thought on waking was Kiran, her back to him, her light breaths creating a steady cadence.
Having someone to care about was a novelty. It had been a few years since he was in a relationship, and this one was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
There was a difference between being alone and feeling lonely.
Nash had never wanted for company when he was growing up. His important moments always had loved ones present, even if it wasn’t his parents who were showing up. Aunt Kate never let him down. Neither did the McGuires. He never felt lonely or depressed because no one cared.
But being alone was an entirely different concept. He had been alone. Aunt Kate, no matter her intention and support and efforts, wasn’t his full-time mother. The McGuires might as well have been family; however, they weren’t there every single night.
And waking up next to Kiran made Nash feel like he didn’t want anyone but her next to him when he opened his eyes.
Kiran stirred. She rolled over and smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat.
“What’re you doing?” She rubbed her eyes.
“Thinking about a run…and watching you,” he admitted, his cheeks warming.
“Cardio this early?” Kiran asked, making a face.
“Well, if it’s like what we did last night, it could be fun…” Nash wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.
“Good point,” she murmured as she kissed him.
After a few blissful hours in bed, Kiran had to drop off some dry cleaning, and Nash finally dragged himself away to his apartment to change and go for a run.
As he pounded the pavement around a few blocks, he smiled at strangers, stopped to pet a dog, and even said hello to a homeless person to their puzzled bewilderment.
With his T-shirt soaked through and breathing heavily, he climbed the stairs to their apartment building.
Before he headed to the door of his place, he stopped by the mailbox.
He flipped through a few envelopes—electric bills from ConEdison, his cell phone bill, and a student-loan payment bill for the month.
The final letter caught his breath, and he stopped in the hall, unintentionally blocking another resident from exiting the building. He moved with an apology but didn’t glance up as he stared at the handwritten addresses on the front.
The return address was from Philadelphia. And the recipient’s name was one he never thought he’d see on any kind of correspondence again.
Kirk Hawthorne.
His father.
Nash flipped the envelope over curiously, and his fingers ran over the folded flap disguising whatever was inside. He couldn’t help but imagine his dad sealing it with the intention of Nash reading its contents in a day or two.
Then an overpowering thought took over.
He didn’t want to know.
How many times had he wondered while growing up what it would be like to have a father? He couldn’t count the number of times he ran to the door when he was little and hoped his dad would finally come in after a workday. Why hadn’t he even sent Nash a birthday card in all these years?
Nash’s mother had told him that Kirk had even left the job at the auto shop when he fled home. He’d literally run away from his own family and his own life. He’d run away from Nash.
Would a letter change any of that?
Nash knew he couldn’t get back the twenty-five years he’d waited for his father to show up. They were gone. He’d faced his mother’s problem, his milestones like good grades, track awards, and graduations, and his mother’s death all without Kirk. For all he cared, Kirk was a DNA donor and not deserving of the title of father.
Nash threw the letter on the counter where he left the rest of the mail and went to shower.
He had a beautiful girlfriend and a career he’d worked for his entire life.
A half-assed letter wouldn’t change any of that, and Nash was going to move forward. The damage had already been done, and a letter was too little, too late to heal what Nash had faced alone.