He'd spit on her grave. Spit on her fucking grave. Samuel basically shit all over me with his words and I couldn't care less. I didn't give a single fuck about the words coming out of his mouth but to spit on his own sister's grave was despicable. I may be a piece-of-shit in his eyes but at least I'd never do something like that.

Now, I'm not saying I entirely deserved all of the rest of the bullshit that came out of Samuel's over-arrogant mouth, but I deserved some of it. Yes, I know Monica could've done better than me. Yes, I'm aware that I was a fucking low-life when she'd met me. But she'd made me better.

I wasn't just some addict when I was with Monica. No, that woman changed every single thing about me. She had turned my world upside fucking down. She'd turned me into an entirely different man. So, to all of the terrible crap he said, I'd just gritted my teeth and listened. Because I knew better. I knew better about myself. I knew I wasn't that. And I knew Seth wasn't a mistake.

I can't believe he'd even said those words out loud, trying to insinuate that Seth didn't change our lives for the better. Seth wasn't entirely planned but he wasn't unwanted. He wasn't the reason Monica and I stayed together. No, we were together because we loved each other. I loved her with every fiber of my being, I still do.

If that wasn't the case, if the love wasn't there, then I would've never asked Monica to marry me. If I was one of those guys I would've asked the moment I'd found out she was carrying my son, but Samuel was right, I'm not that noble. I'm not the kind of guy who would stick around just to stick around.

I wasn't going to marry her just because she'd gotten pregnant, like some announcement to the world that I was stuck. No, I wanted her to know, know for certain, that the reason I was asking her to marry me was genuinely because I'd wanted to and not out of some warped obligation. I loved that woman with every single cell in my body, down to my very core, and even though she's gone, I will never stop.

Samuel was never my biggest fan. The disgusted look on his face when we'd first met was a clear indicator of that. He'd looked me up and down like I was the scum on the bottom of his shoe and all because I wasn't from some wealthy, filthy-rich background like he'd been. I hadn't even known the extent of Monica's family's wealth until much later in our relationship.

It wasn't until we got married that I'd known. The entire process leading up to it, all the planning, all that fancy shit that kept coming in. I'd wondered how in the actual hell we were going to make all of that happen. Well, her father had made sure she had the wedding of her dreams and then some. She knows how I am, that's why she'd never told me.

Why she ever lived in those shit apartments where we'd met I'll never understand. Even though she said she was aiming for some kind of independence from it all, from her family, I'll just never get it. Why she'd ever been interested in me I'd never know either. Monica could've had anyone but she'd chosen me.

I mean, I know why most women are attracted to me initially, but why she'd stuck around is a mystery. When I was younger I was chockfull of testosterone and unhealthy habits, most women overlooking the later because of the former. Monica had seen through all of that, falling in love with the brokenness and I couldn't help but fall for her.

I grab my cigarettes out of the inside pocket of my leather jacket and open them up. I snatch one out and light it up, running my other hand through my hair. "How is he?" I ask when I hear Seth's footsteps approaching.

"He's pretty fucked up, dad." I don't say anything I just nod in response. No need for him to know just how happy I was to finally bash his uncle's face in. Arrogant prick. "Are you alright?"

I snort, "you think I'd let him lay a hand on me?" I can't help but let out a little laugh. It's not funny, but it is.

"No, dad. That's not what I'm talking about. Uncle Samuel said some really messed up stuff about you."

I look over to my son who is eyeing me worriedly. "Listen Seth, I've dealt with a lot of worse things than your uncle's attitude throughout my lifetime." I take another drag. "I don't let much get under my skin anymore."

"You know you didn't deserve that, right?" His eyes and voice full of sadness. "Not a single word of it."

"Maybe some of it." I sigh looking at the tombstone in front of me, feeling a deep ache inside of my chest. "Just wish it wasn't today of all days and it wasn't here of all places."

"But you were never a junkie, dad." I look over to my son. "You were never-" his words stop when I give him a sad frown. "Dad...?"

"You remember me telling you about my best friend growing up?" I see his blonde hair, his blues eyes in my mind and a deep ache burrows itself in my chest for a man that once was.

"Yeah, Trevor." He gives me a sad smile, completely unaware of my fucked up family tree, our family tree.

"He died of a heroin overdose. I found him like that." Fuck my visual memory because I see him slumped over on that desk. I see his eyes and the way they just stared off into nothingness.

I watch as his eyebrows scrunch together. "But you never... you were never..."

"I was a mess at one point in my life, Seth. I was a complete mess and that's not ever something I'd planned on talking to you about. Now, since you heard your uncle blathering on about what a piece-of-shit I am, I figure you should hear it from me." I look from him to Monica's grave, wishing she were here. Wishing she could give me some guidance.

"Was I-," he shakes his head "was I really a mistake?"

I look at him like he'd physically hurt me because those words hurt. "Seth, how can you even ask me that? You are the best thing I have ever done with my life. All of those moments raising you with your mother, all of those happy little moments, that will forever be ingrained in my brain, are the happiest memories I have ever made. You are the best thing-" I can feel the tears run down my face as I look down at the headstone "the best thing that ever happened to us."

"Dad, I'm sorry." I turn to see him standing next to me with his arms open "I should've known better than to ask that. I'm sorry."

I grab him into my arms, embracing him. "You're damn right you're sorry. You ever ask if you were a mistake again and your ex won't be the reason you need to fix those truck windows."

He lets out a loud snort, "that shouldn't be an issue anymore."

I pat him on the back one more time before pulling away. "That's right, you're with Rae now."

"Yup." A cocky smile overtakes his face as he nods. God, he looks just like me at that age.

"So, are you guys in a relationship?" He pauses for a moment and I want to smack him upside the head. "Jesus, Seth. Tell me you're not fucking around with other people while fucking around with your best friend's little sister."

"We're just, just-"

"Do not say just fucking. I swear to god if you say just fucking I'm going to-"

"No!" he exclaims, cutting me off. "Well, yes. I don't know. We're just testing the waters." I cock an eyebrow at him. "I know, it's a not a good idea."

"Thinking about sleeping with your best friend's sister is a bad idea, Seth. You're actually doing it. That's an entirely different thing."

"I know." He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the ends. I do that exact same thing when I'm stressed.

"You don't know what you're getting into with that one."

"What do you mean?" His automatic defensive tone lets me know he cares about her with things other than his cock.

"What, you mean besides the fact that she's your best friend's sister?" He lets out a long sigh. "She's got a darkness in her, Seth. Something bad happened to her." His eyes widen marginally. "See, you know what I'm talking about. Something happened to her down there in Georgia." And I have a feeling what may or may not be involved but I'm not going to say a word because I can tell he knows something.

He doesn't look at me, but at the ground. "She's got burn marks on her rib cage."

"Burn marks?" I feel the hostility in the pit of my stomach. "What kind of burn marks?"

He shrugs saying, "I'm not really sure." Then he eyes me, more specifically what I'm holding in my hand.

I immediately put it out. "You're saying she has cigarette burns on her ribcage?" I think of someone in her and Rhys's life that I know used to smoke but before jumping to conclusions I ask, "does she smoke?"

"Not that I know of."

I nod and grit my jaw, not saying anything. It's not my place to jump to any kind of conclusions but I know one man in Raegan's life that would be capable of such atrocity.