Page 84 of Mark & Don't Tell

I kind of like it.

Okay, I have to get ready. Stop distracting me. See you tomorrow, Linc?

Glancing up from my screen, I arch an eyebrow at Linc. “She’s asking about your date. Are you still up for it?”

He nods. “She’s the only thing good about this week.”

Linc

Don’t forget to do as you’re told, bunny.

Daria

Yes, sir.

I bite back a grin and tuck my phone away, eyeing Linc. “What did you tell her to do?”

The hint of a smirk tugs at his lips. “I sent her home with vibrating underwear. I have the remote.”

Vic and I exchange knowing smiles. “That will certainly make dinner more interesting.”

Linc nods and tucks into his food. Normally, he’d be a little more enthusiastic, but it’s been a heavy week. We eat for a bit in silence, enjoying the food. Vic is in his usual spot, and I try not to stare at him. It’s been so long since he’s been here, but the table feels right in a way it hasn’t while he’s been away.

“So,” I begin a while later. “Let’s talk about it.”

Linc shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good.”

I frown. “Well, I’m not. That’s my son too.”

Stabbing his fork into his fried rice, he glares at me. “Vic probably told you all about it. What more do you want to know?”

“Hey, come on, now. I’m not trying to fight with you,” I say gently. “But you can’t keep it in. What Ryan asked for and everything he said after, it’s crappy.”

Lincoln scowls. “He needed my help.”

“No, he wanted to use you,” Vic says. “He wanted to use us.”

“He wanted money. Only because he needs help, though,” Linc rationalizes, but based on the way his forehead lines, I’m not sure he even believes himself.

Time for some tough love.

“No. Ryan knew what he was doing. He asked you to have lunch, pretended he wanted to reconcile, and then, when you didn’t give him what he actually wanted, he lashed out.” I run my spoon through the soup. “Can you really say that he was genuine about wanting to forgive and forget?”

Linc’s jaw tightens. “I don’t know. I asked him if he was dating anyone, and he got so mad at me.” Pausing, he breathes through his nose and blinks away tears. Linc hates crying. He starts to say something, his voice cracking. “I was trying to learn about his life, you know?” His voice is strained, and his pain hits me in the chest. No matter how hard he tries to fight the emotion, it bleeds into what he says next.

“I only want to know my son, and he acted like I was interrogating him. I apologized because maybe it was too personal of a question, I get that, but then it was like a switch flipped, and the way he looked at me with so much hate.” Linc shakes his head and clears his throat, hard. “I don’t know where I went wrong or how to fix it. I said I’d never be like my parents, that I’d have a relationship with my child, but now, I’m exactly like them.”

“Hermano,” Vic says. “You’re nothing like them. You’re a good dad.”

“If that were true, why does he hate me? Why does he hate us?” Linc glares at Vic, who struggles to come up with a response.

“I don’t have the answer to that. When Felicia left, it wasn’t easy for anyone. We did our best, we still did everything we could to be there for him. We took care of him whenever his mom asked, even if it fell outside of the custody arrangement. We talked to him. Played video games. Went to every sporting event we could. We were there, Linc. This is nothing like what your parents did to you.”

“Yeah, well,” he says with a bitter laugh. “I still ended up like them. My kid hates me. I want to fix it.”

Vic and I trade a look. Repairing the relationship is beyond us now. It’s up to Ryan to decide. Knowing that I have to say it, I slam the rest of my whiskey and clench my fists, hating that it’s come to this.

“I think we should consider setting some boundaries,” I begin, checking Linc’s reaction. He’s staring at a spot on the wall, maybe lost in his own lonely memories of growing up with parents who abandoned him. “We will be there if Ryan truly needs us. If he ends up in jail? We can bail him out. If he’s hurt? We’re there. If he’s about to lose his house or can’t afford to eat? We help. Other than that, until he apologizes and it’s real—not some fake play to get something from us—I don’t think we should meet with him.”

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