Page 40 of Wild Obsession
September
Chapter Sixteen
Dylan
The camping tripwas finally happening.Over three months late and a hell of a lot harder to schedule than it should have been, but we’d gotten here.Three days, just me and Hunter, and they were going by faster than I wanted them to.
We’d spent them fishing off a dock, hiking through the woods, getting eaten alive by mosquitos, and watching the sun go down over the Bay.We’d roasted hot dogs and marshmallows and stayed up later than we should have.
And I’d been present for all of it in a way I hadn’t managed to be for most of his life—each moment feeling more significant than the last.
We were fishing when it first hit me how fast he was maturing.I saw it in the way his jaw set when he was working something out, the way he went quiet instead of complaining.
He’d cast badly three times in a row, then on the fourth try he’d adjusted his grip without being told and put the line exactly where he wanted it.
“There you go,” I said.
The knit of his brow smoothed and he gave me a guarded smile.“I watched what you were doing.”
“That’s good.That’s how you learn.”
He was quiet for a moment, watching the water.“Eric says I overthink things.”
“Eric’s not wrong.”I kept my eyes on my line.“But overthinking and paying attention aren’t the same thing.You were paying attention.”
He chewed on that for a while.So did I.
The hike on day two had nearly killed him.Not because he wasn’t fit, but because he’d talked the entire way up and saved nothing for the climb.By the time we hit the ridge he was breathing too hard to speak, which was the quietest he’d been all weekend.
“Worth it?”I asked, looking out over the tree line.
He took in the view, chest heaving.“Yeah.”
I handed him a water bottle, and we stood in silence for a while.It felt like he’d finally decided I was someone safe enough to be still around.He didn’t need to fill every second with chatter.
Now it was the last night, and the fire was burning low between us.
Hunter had a stick in his hand and was poking at the embers, sending up sparks that died before they reached the lowest branches of the trees.He’d burned his hot dog twice at dinner and eaten it anyway, and I hadn’t said a word about it.
Fuck, he was a great kid.
It still hurt that Jamie had raised my boy in the big city, far removed from my small-town life in Copper Ridge.But regretting the time I’d missed wasn’t going to give it back.Having him here now was what mattered, and after working so goddamn hard for it, there was no way in hell I’d let it go to waste.
Every minute with him counted.
Jamie and Eric were home from their honeymoon.I’d barely thought about either of them all weekend.Whatever grip Jamie had on me, it was loosening.Not gone.But loosening.
My only concern was my son.
A lot had changed in not much more than a year.He’d grown up practically overnight.His messy blond hair hung in his eyes now and his feet were three sizes too big for his body.
I just hoped with all the changes—moving here, his mom remarrying, on the verge of becoming a teenager—he wasn’t feeling out of place.
“You happy, bud?”
“Yeah, Dad.You were right.Camping is pretty cool.”
Campingwaspretty cool.He might not have grown up with it, but at least he could appreciate it now, and that made for a pretty perfect weekend in my book.
