Page 31 of The CEO and the Mountain Man

“Son, you wouldn’t have grabbed the wheel if you thought she was going to stop.” I paused, so he understood that I got the implication. “If you hadn’t grabbed the wheel, you would probably both be dead.”

Rather than helping, he only slumped further. “Isn’t that what I deserve?”

That question took the breath out of my lungs.

I felt the weight of this moment, the importance of my answer. So many times, as parents, we stumble into these moments where our children will remember what we said for the rest of their lives.

I hoped I knew what I was doing.

First, I had to remember to breathe.

“River.” I used everything in me to keep my voice as calm as Beau’s. “I need you to look me in the eye as I say this.”

He looked away. I stood there and waited until I had his eyes on me.

“Even if everything was exactly as you said? None of that justifies a death sentence.”

River rubbed his nose, thoughts racing behind his soulful eyes. He sighed. “Only you would say it that way.”

“Probably,” I acknowledged, pushing his hair off his forehead. “Your mother had one terrible, awful moment, Riv. Had it been a summer day like today, she would’ve come to her senses by the bottom of the hill and been able to stop the car. But it was wintertime. Layers of ice and snow made that a dangerous hill. And your mother’s state of mind—whatever the fuck that was—made it a deadly one. That’s on her, never on you. And the fact that I still have you here with me, alive, and, frankly, a little snotty? Is a fucking miracle.”

River laughed, rough and uncertain as he wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve again. “Sorry.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t kill your mother, River. In what will probably be the worst moment of your life, you had to accept the truth of what was happening, and then you had to act to save your life. And I will be forever grateful, you hear me?”

Large, fresh tears popped into the corners of his eyes, breaking and falling down his cheeks. He nodded.

Beau drove up to the side of the barn and sat back. Wordlessly letting me know that we could take our time.

“Now, if this were a Hollywood movie, everything would be perfect after this, and the grand finale song would play. Because I now understand why it felt like I was losing you, and you fully accept that this is not your fault.”

River snorted, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“But I am guessing that what we really have here is a good fresh start with each of our therapists.”

More tears fell as River snot-laughed. I snot-laughed with him.

I gestured to Beau. “Let’s get you to the cabin. Let you sleep a while. And I don’t care that we just got here. You can let meknow if you want to stay, or if we should take off. No wrong answers, okay?”

River wiped away his tears again. “Okay.”

Beau gave us a warm smile as we made our way into the ute. “Hold on to your butts,” he said gently, netting another sniffly half-grin from my son.

Beau took his time going down the drive, parking carefully next to my car. Miguel was fiddling with his hair, watching from the main building as River and I made our way into the cabin. Which reminded me…

“And, as soon as you stop crying over your dead mother, perhaps you and I could discuss the hickeys,” I said as we approached River’s room.

River’s smile was encouragingly troublesome, even if his chin trembled. “Miguel and I are in love. We’re getting married next week. I hope you can be there.”

“Is his mom single?”

“Too soon, Dad. Too soon,” River cracked as he let himself into his room.

“By the way, you smell like a chlorinated swamp,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, squeezing myself. “Maybe take a shower before you fall into a depressed coma, yes?”

“Fine.”

After River shut his door, I turned to Beau, who was standing just inside the front entrance. Still hugging myself, I buried my face in his chest, relieved to hear River turn on the shower. He really did stink.