Chapter 31: Finding Forever: Chapter 30

“Hello, Cyrus,” Fern greeted her attorney cheerfully, on a Monday morning, three weeks later. She stayed in regular email contact with him but hadn’t really had a conversation with him in weeks. So, she’d been surprised when his name came up in her caller ID. “How’re you doing?”

“Hello, Fern. I’m good, thanks. How are you and Casper?”

“I’m fine and the baby’s growing like a weed.” She laughed, her hand going to her now-unmistakable baby bump.

To Fern’s chagrin, everybody had started referring to the baby as Casper too, thanks to Cade. Even she had started thinking of him as Casper. And she’d already privately acknowledged that it was probably going to have to go onto the list of potential names.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Cyrus said warmly. “Uhm, so listen, I have to run something by you.”

Fern braced herself, pretty sure this call was about Granger. Cyrus’s voice always took on that particularly reserved tone when it came to her stepfather.

“What’s going on?”

“Abernathy has been relentlessly demanding to speak with you. He’s been bleating on about needing to see for himself that you’re okay. Saying that you left his house under cover of darkness, with two strange men, and since then there’s been zero contact except what he’s read in newspapers and seen on television.”

Fern chewed on her lip as she considered the man’s words. From a normal, caring stepfather, it would seem like a reasonable request, but Granger didn’t care about her well-being at all. He never had. She knew he was up to something. But she also felt maybe she should see him again. To prove to herself that she no longer had anything to fear from him.

“What do you suggest we do?” she asked.

“We could arrange a meeting, at my office, with your—and his—attorneys present. Strictly supervised, of course. You needn’t be alone with him.”

Cade wasn’t going to like it. He’d worry about Granger upsetting her. But suddenly she really wanted to do it. She wanted Granger to see that she was thriving despite what he’d done to her. And she wanted him to know that it was she who had instigated the Lambecrete deal behind his back and that she’d happily co-authored his downfall.

And most of all she wanted him to see that she was happy and unrepentant about the decisions she’d made to lead to this moment.

“Okay. I don’t mind doing that. But I’d prefer to keep Cade out of the loop on this one.”

“He’s not going to be happy to learn about it after the fact, Fern,” Cyrus said, sounding uncomfortable.

“He’ll be even less happy being in the same room with Granger. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that either. He hates Granger.”

“Oh, I’m quite aware of that.” There was a wry tone to Cyrus’s voice that she didn’t understand. “You’re my client and if you don’t want your very overprotective husband to know, I won’t be telling him. But, Fern… I really think you should tell him.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, so I’ll go ahead and facilitate this meeting, I’ll contact you with the details later this week.”

“Thanks, Cyrus.”

She disconnected the call and met Beth’s curious gaze across the restaurant table.

Beth, and her friend Lucy Reeves—well Fern’s friend too now—had taken time out of their busy schedules today, to meet Fern after her first day of orientation week. A late lunch to celebrate the rite of passage.

To Fern’s shock, her late admission had been accepted by all three local tertiary institutions she’d applied to. Although, she knew she probably shouldn’t be shocked. With the kind of money she now had, as well as the publicity she’d been receiving lately, it would’ve been more shocking not to be accepted. Yes, her academic record was stellar and she could easily have been accepted on merit alone, but she was realistic enough to know that this had probably not been the only factor they’d considered when accepting her application.

Still, she recognized her position of privilege and was already in talks with Cyrus about anonymously establishing a couple of bursaries to sponsor those less privileged than her.

“What was that about?” Beth asked.

“Granger wants a meeting,” she said with a roll of her eyes, speaking around the fry she’d just shoved into her mouth. She was constantly hungry lately.

“You’re not going to do it though,” Lucy said. “Right?”

Fern really liked Lucy. She liked all of Beth’s friends, even though she sometimes felt like a gatecrasher into their long-standing friend group. They called themselves a framily and were very close-knit. Fern and Cade had met most of them at the chaotic Christmas lunch at Gideon and Beth’s place.

Fern—who’d been a little overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people that day—had escaped to the spare room, only to find Lucy already there, wearing a pair of bright green leggings and a pink T-shirt with a sequined unicorn pooping a rainbow on the front of it. She’d been reading a graphic novel and eating popcorn. When she’d glanced up and spotted Fern, she’d merely said “Oh hey, you’re just in time. The dragon slayer is about to murder the fairy goblin. Wanna read with me?”

She’d patted the bed, and Fern had happily joined her. By the time a frantic Cade had found her half an hour later, they’d finished the entire bowl of popcorn and had gawked their way through a few intense, dragon slayer/fairy goblin sex scenes. Which Lucy had deemed “pretty hot for human adjacent hetero sex.”

They’d been firm friends since then.

Now, both Lucy and Beth were staring at Fern with equally concerned expressions on their faces.

“I think it’s a good idea to just meet him, get it over with and move on with my life. Call it closure,” Fern said in response to Lucy’s question.

Beth pressed her lips together in clear disapproval. “And you’re not going to tell Cade?”

“Only if I want him to shit a brick,” Fern snorted. Her friends didn’t laugh and she rolled her eyes again. “He doesn’t have to know. He’ll just make a bad situation worse. My attorneys will be there. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Fern,” Beth began, looking seriously unhappily.

“Beth, I have to do this. I want Granger to know that I’m happy despite him. That I’m stronger than he ever knew. I want him to realize that he lost to me. And I’d really, really appreciate it, if neither of you told Gideon or Cade about it. I’ll tell Cade afterward.”

Lucy mimed turning a lock at the corner of her mouth and throwing away the key and Beth sighed in resignation. She reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

“I won’t say a word. I promise. But I think you have to trust Cade and tell him.”

“I’ll consider it,” Fern promised.

“Now tell us more about your orientation. On a scale of one-to-smoking… how hot were the boys?”

“And girls,” Lucy added.

“They were all a good ten years younger than me.” Fern laughed. “Babies compared to my fifteen out of ten, smoking-hot husband.”

“Ugh, newlyweds always gross me out. You’re always perpetually horny for each other. It’s disgusting. Spare a thought to those of us getting none, thank you very much,” Lucy intoned.

“Play your cards right with that new girl, Zoe, and that could be you,” Beth said.

“Nah, I’m a rolling stone and all that.”

Fern smiled, allowing their banter to fade into the background while she contemplated her upcoming meeting with Granger. She didn’t like keeping the news from Cade. But she knew him well enough by now to realize that he’d insist on being present. And the meeting would turn into a testosterone fueled, dick measuring contest. Fern didn’t want that.

She needed this to be her moment.

Then again, maybe she should do as Beth had suggested and trust him to have her back and be the support she needed. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do.

These last three weeks with Cade had been truly amazing. He was attentive, sweet, considerate, and their lovemaking just got more and more off-the-charts explosive. They couldn’t get enough of each other.

They hadn’t yet revisited their discussion about the future, but Cade had—just two days ago—talked about finding a house on a beach with the perfect beach view room for Casper.

Life would be perfect if Fern wasn’t so riddled with uncertainty. She hated that she couldn’t simply enjoy what they had. But it wasn’t enough. Because it didn’t feel real.

And Fern knew, she couldn’t delay making that decision about her—their—future for much longer. She just couldn’t continue to live in limbo.

Cade’s conversations with his father had been strained ever since the night Fern had refused to acquiesce to the old man’s demands that she call him Niall.

His father was in the country again for the first time since the beginning of January, ostensibly to discuss the next phase of what they’d unofficially dubbed their Going Green project. They had their next potential acquisitions already lined up. An innovative fairly new rainwater harvesting and irrigation company as well as a provider of energy efficient smart home systems.

Cade already had his acquisition strategy worked out, he also had alternative options lined up, in case their first choices didn’t work out. His father knew that and Cade wasn’t sure why the old man hadn’t simply called.

“How’s Fern?” his father asked, after only most cursory of business conversations.

“Fern?” Cade watched his father carefully, not sure what the old man was up to but positive he wasn’t going to like it. “She’s fine. She and Casper are both doing well.”

“She’s a good lass.”

“I know.”

“You seem happy now. With her.”

“I… am.” Cade confirmed warily, not sure where his dad was going with this.

“I can tell. You smile whenever you talk about her. And the bairn.”

He did?

Cade froze as he realized that he’d been smiling just a moment ago, and that it was only fading now as he considered his father’s words. He hadn’t known that that was something he’d been doing.

“Aye, I noticed it whenever we have the video calls. You’ve been doing it for a while. You only recently started grinning like a Cheshire cat over the bairn. A few weeks ago.”

He didn’t know where his father was going with this.

“Okay?”

“So, she’s sticking around then? For longer than three years?”

“That’s my hope.” Cade’s response was stilted.

“Good. She makes y’happy. I haven’t seen y’smile so freely and genuinely in decades. And she stands up for you. I like that she does that, especially when you won’t do it for y’self.”

“What the fuck are y’talkin’ about?” Cade snapped, offended.

“Och, don’t gimme this outraged face, lad. Ye’d take on a pub full o’ brawlers if y’had tae, I know that. But you can’t confront me and tell me that you don’t like your name.”

“I like my name fine.”

“I lost you somewhere along the way,” James Hawthorne said, the thick burr that usually only surfaced when he was angry or emotional fading as he got his temper back under control. He steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on Cade’s desk as he stared across the mahogany expanse at his oldest son. “You withdrew. Grew quiet. Didn’t have the usual adolescent rebellions like your brothers and sisters. Always so good and obedient and willing to fall on your sword for the family.”

“What and that’s a bad thing now?” Cade seethed, holding onto his temper by the slimmest of threads. “After all these years of being your fucking ruthless enforcer, your well-trained, emotionless machine. So adept at getting you everything you want in the most bloodless way possible, my loyalty is somehow not good enough anymore?”

“Your fire. Your spark. Your passion. All of that disappeared when your mother died. I always thought that your grief had somehow fundamentally altered who you were. But that wasn’t it.” The old man shook his head, and for the first time Cade saw the sadness and regret in his father’s eyes. “It took that wee mad wife of yours to make me understand. Your mother was the last one who still called you that… Cade.”

“Cade began to disappear years before Mum died. You made sure of that.”

“Fuck, Niall.” His father’s face twisted, and he shook his head. “It was between your mother and me. She liked the name, it was her father’s name. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of calling you that after she’d walked out on us. On me.”

“I was ten. I was confused. I no longer knew who I was, or where I belonged. You stripped me of my very identity. And then you made sure my brothers and sister did the same. I felt betrayed by them. And it drove a wedge between us that we never quite recovered from. I love them. I forgave them, but I felt like I’d lost them… no like they’d lost me. Like they’d somehow forgotten me. When Mum died, it felt like the last vestiges of Cade died with her. I lost my mother and I lost myself. I became who you wanted me to be.”

“It’s just a name f’god’s sake.”

“If it’s just a name, why was it so fucking important to you that I go by Niall instead of Cade?”

His father’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to formulate a reply. But he had none. Because there was no acceptable response.

“You wanted to win the divorce and I was the casualty of your petty fucking war with Mum. That’s the long and short of it, right?” Cade didn’t usually speak his mind so freely. He kept things bottled up. He repressed emotions, swallowed down anger, and moved through life with a wall ten feet thick between him and the rest of the people in his life.

Well, he used to do all of those things.

Until Fern had come along with her little hammer and chisel and started chipping away at that wall.

He’d been more open and honest about his emotions with her these last few weeks than he had with anyone else in decades. And that honesty was spilling through right now.

And it felt fucking fantastic.

Until he met his father’s eyes and saw how truly distraught the old man was.

“I’m sorry,” his father shocked him by saying. “I really am. I was a terrible father. I know that. I still am. Gideon is my only truly happy child. And he found that happiness because he left the family for years. Now Nox has done the same and Kenny is a mess. And you… son, you were gone too. You rarely smiled, never spoke about anything personal, it was like your life revolved around work and nothing else. You stayed behind, stayed with me… but you were never truly there. But now—with Fern and the bairn—you’re smiling again. You talk about her—them—all the time. And I can see you again. And I’m so grateful to her for making you happy.”

Cade swallowed past the massive lump in his throat, not sure how to respond to that.

“I… I can try to call y’Cade again. If that’s what you prefer.”

Cade stared at his father, his eyes burning as he fought back the wave of overwhelming emotion the unexpected offer sent crashing through his system.

He shook his head and smiled.

“I’m truly grateful for that offer, Dad, but you don’t have to do that. The name Niall is as much a part of my identity as Cade. For the longest time—until Fern, really—I felt like Cade was lost forever. But I finally feel whole again, like the person I was when mum was still alive. At ease in my skin and wholly comfortable with who I am. And I’m happy for you to use whichever name you’re comfortable with. Just stop trying to bully my wife into using the name you prefer.”

“I doubt I’d be able to bully that lass into doing anything. Did you see how she stood up to me? She’s got some guts that one. I like her. I’m glad she’s decided to keep you.”

Only she hadn’t. Not yet. And the uncertainty was killing Cade. This conversation with his father was yet another way in which Fern had positively impacted his life. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if she decided that she wanted to leave him. He didn’t know if he’d survive the devastation of losing her.