After three hours of tossing and turning in a bed within Sully’s guest bedroom, she drove towards the direction of home. Along the way, she resumed a mental session (that had kept her awake through the night) of replaying the heated argument in Miles’ office over and over again, pinpointing her mistakes and brewing up ideas of how she could have handled things differently. By the end, she felt guilty and confused—an emotional combination that didn’t mix well inside her. Maybe, her reaction was justified. Or maybe, it was unwarranted. Maybe, somehow it lingered in a realm of gray, neither black or white. Maybe, neither him or her was wrong like two sides of a spinning coin that didn’t know when to fall.

Parking her car beside his in the gravel driveway, she gripped the steering as she stared at the ranch house before she took a deep breath and stepped out. With a twist of a key, she opened the front door and went inside. Closing the door behind her, she quietly walked through the house and stopped in the picture-filled hallway just outside the kitchen. She had passed these pictures so many times and yet, she cocked her head as she stared on. It seemed like every loved one in his life had a picture on that stretch of wall. Even she had a few pictures stirred in the collection, but none of his parents.

She chewed hard on her bottom lip, a tightening pain entering her heart knowing that his relationship with his parents was broken and sharp like thousands of shards of glass. Irreparable, even.

Sugar continued toward the bedroom, the sound of a running shower growing closer and closer. After kicking off her shoes, she went to the bathroom door and opened it carefully, a wave of thick hot steam hitting her in the face. She closed the door behind her softly before she undressed and grabbed the rosy pink shower cap resting on the bathroom counter, tucking her hair inside it as she tiptoed towards the bathtub closed off by a navy-hued shower curtain. She slyly peeled back the material and stepped into the back of the tub, standing directly behind Miles as he braced the wall underneath the showerhead. His muscular shoulders and back were hunched forward, taking the brunt of the hot water that rained down upon him. His head was dropped down, almost like in defeat or resignation.

As she stepped closer to him, he sensed her presence, lifting his head and looking over his shoulder. His face was etched in a tired weariness, letting her know that he didn’t sleep a wink last night. He straightened his backbone and turned to face her, closing in her before she could properly react and forcing her to back into the wall behind her. His wet hands cupped her face and he dipped his head down, capturing her lips to drag her into a deep kiss. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she melted into it—as he devoured her lips as if they had been apart for years.

She broke her mouth away and panted, “I’m sorry.”

He delivered hungry pecks against her lips as his calloused hands glided down her curves, groping her hips and thighs.

“I don’t want your apology,” he spoke huskily. “You left me behind when we still had unfinished business between us. You made me drive all the way home and lay in a cold bed for hours on end, fiendin’ to have you in my arms like a goddamn junkie. I’m mad as hell at you. Don’t ever abandon me like that again.”

The word abandon slammed into her. His fears and worries were laced in every syllable. In that moment, his gray eyes were windows to his soul, showing her his internalized hurt and pain that dwelled within—that he battled with.

What did his parents do to him?

“I won’t,” she promised softly.

He took ahold of her chin. “I’m holdin’ you to that.”

{}{}{}{}

An hour and a half later, they were on the road with a sixteen-hour road trip ahead of them. Sugar took the first shift while Miles slept in a reclined front passenger seat, exhausted. She always snuck glances at him as he slumbered with his tattooed forearm draped across his eyes. For a man so strong and unflinchingly confident, he bared his fragility to her in their shower. It was a difficult experience to process. Not because she judged his sensitivity, but because she never realized how bone-deep the wounds his parents inflicted upon him.

Had she been that blind?

How could she have ignored the trail of crumbs leading to this big reveal?

Her mind swarmed with troublesome thoughts and burning questions as she drove. Six hours in, she made a pit stop at a gas station to refuel. The gas pump’s card machine was broken, so she had to go inside to pay. She bought a bag of chips for snacking and a can of green tea to sip on. After paying for her things and thirty bucks for gas, she returned to the car, putting her purchased items into the car for safe-keeping before she began to pump the gas.

Casually, she glanced around, locking eyes with a man who was parked at the pump right behind her. He smiled at her, nodding his head up as he acknowledged her presence.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“Afternoon,” she returned politely with a weak smile.

“It’s a lovely day.”

Sugar nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“On vacation?”

She nodded once more. “Something like that.”

“I see you’re from Virginia,” he said, his eyes glancing down to the car’s license plate. “How much further you got to go?”

“Um, twelve hours, I think,” she answered.

He let out a whistle of sympathy. “You’ve got a long way to go then. You’re driving by yourself?”

Sugar opened her mouth to speak, but the front passenger door opened, and Miles got out, shooting an appraising glance between Sugar and her gas pump neighbor. The look on his face wasn’t very friendly and the stranger cleared his throat and chuckled nervously, “Uh, have a safe trip.”

“Thanks,” Sugar replied just as the pump finished up.

Miles rounded the car, plucking the pump’s nozzle from the car and her hand, putting it back where it belonged. “Where are we?”

“About sixty miles past Knoxville,” she answered.

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll take it from here.”

“I can drive some more,” she assured.

He lowered his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “Get in the car now.”

Sugar eyed him with slight annoyance at the command, rubbing the tip of her tongue against one of her front teeth before she went to the other side of the car and slipped into the front passenger seat.

Operating on a handful hours of sleep, he drove the rest of the way, stopping here or there for gas, restroom breaks, and food. They breached the Louisiana state-line in the early hours of the morning and made it to Crowley just before sunrise. Miles checked them into a motel not too far from the hospital his father had been taken to.

After Miles brought their luggage to their room, Sugar was in the bathroom, brushing the aftertaste of fast food and flavored chips from her mouth. When she was finished, she walked into the bedroom, taking in the sight of a bare-chested Miles lying in bed, waiting for her. She undressed and joined him in bed, snuggling against him and moaning a little as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Soon enough, both drifting off to sleep in minutes.

{}{}{}{}

Miles pressed the up-button for the elevator before taking a step back, all the while clenching his jaw, a hardened expression on his face. When the elevator arrived, a nurse in Winnie the Pooh scrubs stepped off. Sugar entered and he followed, the elevator doors sliding shut with a ding after he pressed a floor number button. He was a bundle of tensed nerves. She reached for his hand and brought it to her lips, kissing it tenderly.

“I’ll be right beside you,” she assured with a warm smile.

He said nothing, but she could see the gratitude in his eyes even if it only came as a lightning quick flicker. When the elevator doors opened, they stepped off and walked along a long corridor until they reached his father’s room number. The door was closed, which Miles hung a fist in mid-air as he contemplated knocking before he went through with it. As she held his other hand, she gave it an encouraging squeeze.

“Come in,” a woman called from within.

“’Bout damn time. I asked for some goddamn food over a goddamn hour ago,” a man’s voice huffed angrily as Miles had begun to open the door.

A light-skinned sixty-something-year-old woman with a cherub face and a mane of curly chocolate brown tresses was the first to witness their arrival. She was seated in a chair near the bed, flipping through a glossy gossip magazine before she looked up.

Her eyes widening in utter surprise. “You came.” 

Her husband, a man with a long thick graying beard and a striking resemblance to Miles, jerked his attention from the television he had been watching to look at his son. The permanent sour look on his aging face grew even more dour. 

“Renard came to see you, Rene,” the woman beamed.

“I’ve got eyes, woman,” Rene Thibodeau said in a rough grumpy tone.

“And you’ve got a mouth too, so use it to tell our son and his guest hello,” his wife ordered. Rene grumbled a hello under his breath, investing his attention once more at the television.

Satisfied with her husband’s attempt at civility, Clara rose from her seat and put the magazine down, throwing her arms wide to properly greet her son. Sugar tried to slip her hand from his, so that the two could properly reunite, but Miles held onto her hand tighter.

Clara cradled her son’s face and kissed his cheeks. “It’s so good to see you again, Renard.”

She pulled back, looking at Sugar. “And who do we have here?”

Sugar opened her mouth to answer, but Miles beat her to the chase. “My other half, Sugar Wallace.”

“You finally moved on from Alicia after she dumped your ass? ‘Bout time,” Rene chuckled to himself as if he had told an inside joke.

Clara chuckled, her face reddening with embarrassment. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a little cranky ‘cause he misses home.”

“He seems like his same ole’ bitter self to me,” Miles mused with a deep frown.

Rene smirked. “How you gonna talk about bitter, boy, when you got a gal named Sugar and you still walk up in my room with your face all twisted up like you suckin’ on a lemon?”

Miles grit his teeth, stalking forward, but his mother blocked his path and Sugar gripped his hand tighter to make him stop.

“Rene, that’s enough,” Clara hissed over her shoulder. “Simmer down before I make the nurse come in here to give you somethin’ to knock you out cold.”

Then she looked at Sugar with a warm smile as she went back to her chair and slid it across the tiled floor, moving to an opposite wall. “Now, come on and have a seat, sweetheart.”

Sugar bit her bottom lip, glancing to Miles for a moment as she was hesitant to accept the invitation. Clara caught the exchange and teased, “You your own woman, ain’t you? Don’t go lookin’ at Renard for permission. It’s just a seat. I ain’t askin’ for your firstborn or nothin’.”

“Alright,” Sugar said with a tense smile as she used all of her strength to secretly pry her hand from Miles’ tightening one. She then journeyed over to the offered chair and sat down.

Clara then asked sweetly, “Renard, be a dear and go down to the nurse’s station to ask for some more chairs?”

When he wouldn’t budge an inch, she glanced between her son and his ‘other half’. “I promise we won’t gobble her up.”

“It’s fine, Miles,” Sugar assured with a weak smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Her reassurance clipped away at him and he eyed her for a moment longer before he left without a single word. His mother lingered near her, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head slightly as she appraised her son’s ‘other half’.

“You look like you’re gonna break his poor heart,” she broadcasted. Sugar’s brow furrowed, her eyebrows scrunching together in alarm at such a bold assumption. The woman’s smile was motherly, and her voice was more than kind, but underneath all that, the words held a passive-aggressive viciousness to them.

Sugar frowned. “You don’t know me to make that assumption.” 

Clara laughed softly, her smile stretching into a more condescending creature. “I don’t need to know you. As a mother—as his mother—I feel it deep in my gut.”

“You mean as a mother who abandoned her only child,” Sugar asked, cocking her head. “That deep gut feeling might just be you digesting your breakfast, but I can see how you’d be easily confused.”

Rene chuckled deeply. “I startin’ to like her.”

Clara Thibodeau took the insult with momentary stride, but Sugar knew her words stung. It had never been her intention to say such a thing to anyone’s mother, but it was a truth that needed to be told—to be reminded.

“Don’t judge a woman based on her past mistakes she’s tryin’ to make amends for,” Clara said, narrowing her eyes at Sugar. “I know I don’t deserve a Mother of the Year award, but I’m just tryin’ to look out for my son. Even a blind man can see my good intentions.”

“Sure, if thinking that helps you sleep at night, Mrs. Thibodeau.”

Their gazes latched onto each other, intense and unwavering.

“I highly suggest you back down now while you still got the chance, Clara. The last thang I need is him throwin’ a fit ‘cause you breathed in his gal’s direction,” Rene warned, his voice gruff and teasing while he used a corded remote control to flip through the channels on the flat screen television perched high in a corner near the window.

“He won’t if no one blabs about it,” Clara said, her honey brown eyes drilling into Sugar before a smile eased across her lips. “I’m just makin’ sure your intentions are true is all. Now, let’s make nice before Renard comes back. Alright?”

Just then, the hospital room door opened by the doing of a young redhead nurse. She held the door open for Miles as he carried in two chairs. He nodded his gratitude to her before he passed her by.

With a nurse now in his sights, Rene barked, “Where in the devil is my food?”

“It’s on its way, Mr. Thibodeau,” the nurse assured politely.

“I’m ‘bout to die from starvation,” Rene growled.

“Not before I get what I need out of you,” Miles muttered under his breath, just low enough for Sugar’s ears to catch as he placed a chair directly to the right of hers before he placed the other one close to the hospital bed.

Once the nurse had left, Miles found his place at Sugar’s side. “I felt my ears burnin’.”

Clara sat down in the chair by her husband’s bedside. “We were just havin’ a little chitchat.”

His gray eyes cut over to Sugar, seeking confirmation—or a sign of distress. Not wanting to create any drama, she smiled and hummed, “Mm-hm.”

“See, Renard? We ain’t all that bad,” Clara teased. “Now onto more important matters. I’ve got your room all nice and ready for ya’ll back at the house. Just like I promised on the phone.”

Sugar glanced to him with raised eyebrows.

“No need. We got a room at the Shuteye Motel,” he stated.

“Good thing you didn’t waste too much money ‘cause you need to checkout and come on down to the house.”

“We’re fine where we are.”

Clara pursed her lips at her son. “Miles Ren—”

“We’re not goin’ and that’s final. I told you I’d come and I did just that. The man won’t even look at me in the goddamn eye ‘cause he’d rather watch damn TV than try and be civil towards his own son he ain’t seen in three years,” Miles said, anger creeping and crawling underneath the surface of his tone—of his words.

Clara shook her head, sighing, “You know how your daddy can be, Renard.”

Miles smirked. “He ain’t my ‘daddy’. He might be my father, but he sure as hell ain’t my ‘daddy’. That title’s earned.” 

Rene silently regarded his son from the comfort of his hospital bed with a clenched jaw and hardened gray eyes. “Why in the hell did you come here, boy? You so ass-sore about the past, why you even here?”

“You know exactly why I’m here.” 

Now, it was Rene’s turn to smirk. “Tryin’ to dig up ‘em old skeletons ‘cause you scared I’ll take ‘em to the grave, huh?”

Confused dripped from Sugar’s face as she witnessed a conversation she felt she shouldn’t be hearing. A secret that she wasn’t supposed to be privy to.

“Just tell me and we’ll be on our way. You ain’t gotta worry about us again. I ain’t gonna bother you again,” Miles stated in a restrained tone as he tried to keep himself under control. “Please, just tell me. I need to know.”

“You come here all high and mighty tellin’ me that bein’ a daddy is an earned title,” Rene began, scratching his beard with a thoughtful expression.

Clara snapped her head to her husband and said warningly, “Rene, leave it be now.”

However, he ignored her. “Yet your own baby girl didn’t call her daddy the day she—”

Miles lurched from his seat with a furious roar, his arm drawn back with a curled fist ready to cause hurt, pain, violence as he advanced towards his father. The two women in the room shot up from the seats at the same time. Clara blocked Miles’ path, holding out her arms while Sugar went after him, grabbing onto his arm to stop him.

“Rene, shut your damn mouth,” Clara hissed over her shoulder.

“Miles, no,” she pleaded. “Please, no.”

His whole body quivered with restraint. His face was reddened with anger. His nostrils flared out with each strong exhale past through them. His eyes were wide and wild.

“I swear on all that is holy, I’m gonna get it outta you,” Miles spoke in a tone so cold and menacing, it didn’t even sound like the man she knew and loved.

“You can try again like last time,” Rene taunted, “but we know how that went. Just ‘cause I’m in this hospital bed don’t mean I won’t send you back to wherever you came from with a tail between your legs and somethin’ worse than a bloody nose.”

A blood nose?

Why did that sound so familiar?

Almost immediately, a memory flooded into her running mind.

{}

A thoughtful expression dominated his facial features and he cocked his head at the posed question. “Is that what you want, honey? To meet ‘em?”

“I take it you don’t visit them when you go on your annual trip?”

“The last time I spoke to my parents was three years ago. The encounter did not go well. My father and I had a nasty argument, which ended with him gettin’ a black eye and me with a bloody nose,” he said.

{}

The nasty argument that had taken place three years ago between Miles and his father wasn’t a violent consequence of child abandonment like she had thought. No, it was about a secret about Miles’ daughter. A secret that only Rene Thibodeau knew and kept hostage.

“Miles, I think it’s time for us to go,” Sugar said in a calm voice, gently tugging his arm to lead him towards the door. She needed to get him away from his parents before it spiraled into something worse—something irreversible.

“I ain’t finished with you, old man. I can promise you that it won’t be a repeat of last time,” Miles growled. “I can fuckin’ promise you that.”

“Miles, let’s go,” Sugar urged desperately, her gentle tugging transitioned into strong yanks as she tried to lead him towards the door.

“Bring it, boy. Bring it,” Rene goaded loudly with a wide grin, gesturing his arms wide—a sign of welcome and a challenge rolled into one.

Once she had finally gotten him out the room and into the hallway, he jerked his arm free from her grasp and marched angrily down the corridor and towards the elevators, growling a string of cuss words that garnered the attention of patients in their rooms, passing hospital staff, and visitors. She followed after him, trying to manage her composure in such a public place. He jabbed roughly at the elevator’s down-button repeatedly as if hitting it hard and fast would make its arrival swifter. He ran his fingers harshly through his hair with gritted teeth before he punched the closed elevator doors and swore aloud.

She closed her eyes and flinched at the suddenness of the outburst and the display of violence against the doors.

“Miles, please calm down,” Sugar begged in a hushed shaky voice, her bottom lip quivering as she struggled to hold back her tears. “Please.”

When the doors opened, the two stepped inside, followed by a handful of guests at the very last minute. They lingered at the back of the elevator. He steeped and stewed in his ire while she struggled to keep herself together as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor. The trek through the hospital lobby and to the parking lot felt excruciatingly long, but once they had arrived at their car, they exchanged loaded glances at each other. Hers was filled with unanswered questions. His held a lack of eagerness to oblige her.

“What the hell was that, Miles,” Sugar asked after they had finally gotten into the car. “What happened back there?”

“Now ain’t the time,” he decided.

Sugar’s eyelids slid shut at his response. “I just stopped you from beating your father’s face in, Miles. Now’s the perfect time. Now, tell me what the hell is going on or—”

He cut her off, sounding pained. “Or what, Sugar? You’ll leave?”

“I’m not the enemy, Miles,” she said softly.

“No, I am,” Miles said, his knuckles ghostly white from clenching the steering wheel.

She shook her head. “You’re not the enemy either, but I can’t be there for you…I can’t support you like I’m supposed to if you don’t let me in.”

They drove in silence for what seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke. “After my daughter had committed suicide, Alicia and I searched for a note…anything that could shed some light on her final thoughts—how our baby girl felt durin’ the last days of her life. We couldn’t find anything. Two years later, Alicia was lookin’ through Melina’s phone. All she wanted to do was look through Melina’s pictures and videos, text messages, that kind of thing, but then she looked through Melina’s call log. The day she died, she had a two-hour long conversation with her grandfather just hours before she decided to take her life.”

Sugar clasped her hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp.

Tears shined in his eyes. “I didn’t know what the hell to think when Alicia told me. We had tried callin’ my parents to tell ‘em ‘bout their granddaughter’s passin’, so they could come pay their respects and they wouldn’t even pick up the phone. No one could get in touch with ‘em. It was like they disappeared off the goddamn earth. Alicia and I wanted closure, so I drove down to talk to him. I just wanted to know what that two-hour phone call was all about, but he was adamant it was none of my damn business. We argued and fought, but he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t fuckin’ budge. Told me he was gonna take it to his grave if he had to.”

Sugar sniffled, tears slipping down her cheeks. “That’s what you meant about your parents getting a taste of their own medicine when you ignored your mother’s calls. It’s because they ignored yours.”

“Him havin’ a heart attack makes me all the more determined to know the truth. I need to know. I can’t let him take that to his grave. I can’t let me and Alicia live the rest of our lives not knowin’,” he spoke, his stubborn tears refusing to fall. “We need closure. We deserve closure. I ain’t lettin’ him go this time. I’m gotta get it outta him.”

The determination in his voice let her know there was no stopping him from getting what he wanted—what he needed.