Page 48 of For Fake's Sake and other stories

“Of course I don’t mind, but I would’ve liked to have known. When your mum and I got divorced, I thought you hated me, that she encouraged you to stay away. I was so lonely, Nate. You must have known you weren’t straight, so why didn’t you want to tell me?”

“I couldn’t say anything. I didn’t feel like my friends. That boys interested me as much as girls, but Mum would’ve flipped. She blamed you for so much, and I didn’t want my sexuality to be another reason for her to hate you.”

“I would rather have taken that than not know and not be able to help you through your thoughts.” He pats Nate’s hand. “Thank you for telling me now.”

“You can blame that on your boy.” Nate laughs, and the tension between us vanishes.

“Hey, no picking on me. Daddy, Nate’s being mean.”

Carl grins and places a kiss on my pouting mouth.

The evening passes quickly, with lots of laughter and Carl and Nate sharing stories. When we say goodbye, all the doubts I may have still harboured about Nate accepting us have vanished. He’sonce again my friend, just like when we were fourteen.

Carl pulls out of the car park. “I’m sorry Charlotte cancelled. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

That’s not what Nate said. Should I tell the truth? That will hurt Carl, but excusing her behaviour will hurt him even more in the long run. “She didn’t cancel, Daddy. She didn’t show up, and that was rude of her. And if you call her tomorrow, you’re giving her bad manners the attention they don’t deserve.”

“Spencer, don’t be like that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. She’s jealous that someone else has some of your attention. She wants you to call her and check that she’s okay, and you’ll probably offer to take her out for lunch when she’s not so busy. By not showing up tonight, she found a way of making it about her and not you. And definitely not me.” Damn the man. Why can’t he see that? Sure, Charlotte is his daughter, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t without faults.

“That’s hardly fair, Spencer. I’m sure she had a perfectly good reason.”

“Fine. I don’t care, Carl. You believe what you want.”

During the remainder of the drive, we don’t speak. I look out the side window, where the trees and houses pass in a blur. Carl pulls into his parking space and switches off the engine but doesn’t get out.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Spencer. I’m disappointed in Charlotte’s behaviour, and I’ll tell her she was wrong not to call me.”

I can’t believe it. He hasn’t listened to a word I said. “Carl, do what you want. I told you I don’t care.” I get out of thecar and hurry to the lift. I’m not going to argue with him. It’ll only end up with us being more pissed off with each other. I want to go to bed and forget all about this evening.

That was twice he said my name instead of Daddy. Bloody Charlotte! Spencer was right. She’s being a brat. So why is it so hard for me to agree with him? Because she’s always been my little girl, a proper daddy’s girl, until I broke the family apart. I’ve been trying to get my little girl back ever since. I’ve ignored her bad behaviour and paid for whatever she wants. What’s worse, I brushed aside her rudeness about Spencer when I should have called her out. She flaked on tonight because she knew she’d get away with it. Well, not anymore.

I get out of the car, pull out my phone, and call her. It rings half a dozen times. Is she asleep already?

“Hello?” Music and lots of talking sound in the background. It’s obvious she is out somewhere. So she isn’t too busy studying and can’t go out after all.

“Charlotte, it’s Dad.”

“Oh, shit.” She mumbles something I can’t hear. “Hi, Daddy, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

She can’t fool me anymore with the air of nonchalance in her voice, an “I can get away with this because it’s my dad” tone.

“Come to my office tomorrow at twelve, Charlotte. Don’t be late,” I snap and end the call. I head to the lift, but Spencer has already gone.

By the time I reach my apartment, the place is dark and quiet. Is he here, or has he decided to leave when I was on the phone? He’s probably in bed. At least we’ll be able to talk. I am an idiot not to see how I hurt him by disregarded his valid points.

In my bed is a Spencer-shaped lump. I let out a relieved breath. I quickly finish my nighttime routine, dump my clothes into the laundry basket, and walk naked to the bed.

“Spencer.” I stroke my hand down his arm. He lies on his side, his back to me, but I don’t miss the way he tenses under my touch. “Please, little one, let me apologise to you.”

It takes at least a minute for him to answer. “What are you apologising for?”

That’s a fair question.

“I’m sorry I dismissed you. That I brushed aside your feelings and defended Charlotte. She was wrong to behave like she did, and I was wrong to allow it.” I want to touch him again, pull him into my arms, kiss him.

Spencer slowly rolls over to face me. “She ruined what was supposed to be a wonderful night. I told you I loved you. I’ve never said those words to anyone. You may think I’m the selfish one for wanting the night to be about me, about us. But even when she wasn’t there, she managed to get between us.”

---