Page 182 of The Blame Game

“That’s good.”

“Dom?”

He glanced over at his father. “Yeah?”

“There’s one thing I want you to know. I have a lot of regrets about the choices I made. But having you, that was never a regret.”

Dom nodded, his throat too thick to respond with words. He’d needed to hear that. “I’m glad you messaged me,” he finally forced out.

They sat in silence for a little while before Kurt stubbed out his cigar. “Well, I should probably head out. Thanks for inviting me over. Tell Shea I said thank you and I hope to see him again.”

“I will. I’m glad you came,” Dom said, rising to his feet. “It was good to clear the air.”

“We should probably do it more often,” Kurt said.

Dom nodded. “We should.”

Dom walked his father to the door and realized they were both a little unsteady on their feet. Not drunk. But not sober either. Definitely not safe behind a wheel.

“Hey, are you okay to drive?” he asked with a frown.

Kurt smiled. “I’m going to get a cab. I’m staying in the city for a few days and catching up with some old friends.”

“Did Robert come?”

Kurt shook his head. “He’s at home with the dogs.”

Dogs. Kurt Olson lived in a home with a man he’d been with for forty years. They’d gotten married and had dogs. Jesus Christ.

“Okay. Well, be safe,” Dom said.

They stared at each other for a few minutes, managed an awkward hug, and then Kurt disappeared through the door.

After Dom closed it and locked it behind him, he walked out onto the balcony.

He intended to clear away the remnants of the cigars, drinks, and the makeshift ashtray, but his legs suddenly felt like they couldn’t hold his weight anymore.

He sank onto the chair with a sigh, his head spinning.

He tried to digest everything he’d learned but it felt overwhelming.

He had no idea how long he sat there before the door opened and Shea stepped out. “Hey.”

Dom let out a heavy sigh, glad to see him. “Hey.”

“You doing okay?”

“I honestly have no idea,” Dom admitted. “I’m … fuck.”

“Want some company?”

“I’d love that.” Dom held out his arm and Shea walked over.

But when he made a move like he was going to sit in the seat beside Dom, Dom reached out and pulled him onto his lap.

Shea tilted his head and kissed Dom before he straightened, wrinkling his nose. “Gross. You taste like whiskey and cigars.”

Dom nodded. “I know. Sorry.”

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