Hugs are so underrated.
It feels so incredibly good to be held again.
To be held byhim.
I jerk away from Dillon the second that thought lands in my mind, swiping the remaining moisture from my cheeks. “We should find the others.”
He nods, looking sad as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. “I thought we could start the garden next week, if that’s okay with you? I’d like to have it finished before East returns to school.”
Easton starts kindergarten in ten days, but I’m having huge reservations. However, I don’t want to think about that today. “Next week is good.” I snap my gaze to his, instantly snared in his gorgeous blue eyes. I asked him not to wear the green contacts because I love him with blond hair and blue eyes. He’s a beautiful man, and he shouldn’t have to hide his eyes because he’s afraid of upsetting me.
The truth is, I want to see his blue peepers. His eyes are the mirror image of my son’s. Those eyes are familiar because I’ve looked into them most every day of my life, but looking at Dillon isn’t like looking at Reeve. That would be wrong on so many levels. No, seeing Dillon with blue eyes helps me to see him in a different light, and it offers me comfort. “Thank you. It’s a really nice gesture.”
“I see how much he misses him. I want to help.”
I nod, releasing a large breath as we resume walking.
“Before we get into the pool, I want to give you and East a tour of my studio.”
“I’d like to see it.”
“Cool. Come on.” He lifts one shoulder. “We’ll grab the little guy before he makes a beeline for the water.”
Ash comes with us, but we leave Ro and Jamie lounging around Dillon’s large outdoor pool. Dillon has a stone path that leads around the side of his house and all the way to the studio.
The studio is much larger on the inside than it appears from the outside and very stylish with high ceilings, asymmetric walls, and wooden floors. “This is the control room,” Dillon explains to East as we step into a small rectangular room. A long console with tons of buttons rests under a glass window that looks into the studio beyond. A bunch of high-tech laptops and other gadgets fill the rest of the space in this room.
“What are these for?” East asks, gravitating toward the mixing console like a moth to a flame.
“That’s for our sound engineers. They listen to the music and the songs as we record them, and they route the sound so it’s balanced and adjusted.”
“Awesome,” East says, nodding as if he understands what that means. He sits in one of the large chairs, pushing buttons while Dillon gazes adoringly at him.
“He’s an incredible little boy,” Ash whispers, as we lean back against the wall, watching father and son. “Dillon never stops talking about him. The only other time I’ve seen him this happy was—”
“Yeah.” I cut her off, unable to hear her vocalize it.
“It’s okay to admit it, Viv. He’s a part of your past, your present, and your future. I know your relationship isn’t the same, but it’s okay to admit you made each other happy.”
“I can’t think about that, Ash. Especially not today. It feels like too big of a betrayal to Reeve.”
“I’ll shut up, in a sec, because the last thing I want to do is upset you today.” She steps in front of me as Dillon and East climb out of the chairs and exit the room. “I’m just going to say this, and there is no intent behind it. I know there is a lot of love between you and my brother. I know there are a lot of unresolved feelings. There is no pressure or expectation on you to feel a certain way, but I want you to know if you still have feelings for him, and if you ever want to act on them, that it’s fine.”
“Ash. It’s three months next week since Reeve died. Only three months. It’s too soon to even think about anyone else.”
“There is no timeline for this kind of situation, and no one should tell you what’s in your heart. I would never push you in Dillon’s direction. I would never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I’m just saying it’s okay to love him. Whether that’s now, next week, next month, or next year, it’s no one’s business but your own. Don’t close your heart out of guilt or fear.”
She makes it sound so simple. But it’s not. Can you just imagine what the world would think if I started something back up with Dillon? I can visualize the horrid headlines already.
“Mommy!” Easton’s high-pitched shriek almost bursts my eardrums. “You gotta see this,” he screams.
“Such impeccable timing,” Ash murmurs, grinning as she loops her arm in mine. “I think that’s enough of the heavy for today. Come on. I think I know why the little munchkin is so excited.”
Ash leads me past the door to the recording studio, but I sneak a quick peek as we walk by. Various mic stands are dotted around the room, and a bunch of different guitars is propped against the walls. A few guitar cases lie flat on the floor. Ro’s drum kit is situated at the back of the space. Framed pictures cover the wall, celebrating their various gold and platinum albums and the numerous accolades and awards the band has won.
“I think we have a budding rock star in the making,” Ash says, dragging me past the room to the next door where East and Dillon are.
My jaw slackens as I take in the mini recording studio with child-sized guitars, a mounted keyboard, microphone on an adjustable stand, and a drum kit. Colorful bean bags are littered around the space. There’s even a miniature refrigerator, loaded with drinks, and a small desk and chair. My eyes lift to Dillon’s. “You did this for E?”
He nods as East strums a few chords on one of the guitars. Dillon has only begun teaching him, so he’s still a complete novice. “I thought he might be able to come over on occasion, and I can give him lessons here. Maybe, sometime, he could come and watch us record or come over and hang out with some of his buddies. I had the desk installed so he could do his homework or color if he gets bored.”
He has put so much thought into this, and my heart is a swollen mess behind my chest cavity.
Easton puts the guitar down and races to the drum kit. He plops down, grabs the drumsticks, and starts bashing away to his heart’s content. His face is animated in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. “Look at me, Uncle Dil. I’m a drummer like Uncle Ro!” Something loosens inside me, and I burst out crying. My emotions are all over the place today, and this is too much. I rush out of the room before E notices, not wanting to upset him when he’s so happy.