“Fuck.”
“He’s not done,” my dad says. “You’re broke now. That is, until you complete those necessary steps. One of which, you’re getting married. In his timeframe. And definitelynotto your bodyguard. But at least in Jonathan’s handbook, he talks to you face-to-face. You pick up the Calloway handbook, Lily’s parents, and they’ll just send the lawyers to deal withyou.”
I stare haunted. “Something like this happened to you andMom?”
His face saysyes. “I love you more than you’ll ever realize, and I hope one day, you can see that our reactions at the camp were out of fear and love. Nothingelse.”
I’m starting to seenow.
Before, I couldn’t comprehend why and how my parents could doubt me, but he just gave me their viewpoint. I wanted automatic loyalty, but my dad cared enough to question me. They all fucking did. They took the chance of being wrong and dealing with this fallout because if they’d been right and didnothing…
I could be drowning in alcohol. I could be hurt and floundering alone. I could be silently screaming for support and no one’s there to answer thecall.
So I getit.
I wish that doomsday could’ve been avoided altogether, but if it had to happen, at least I have parents that love me enough to be there forme.
I nod stiffly. “About Hale Co….” We haven’t talked about the billion-dollar baby product company, built by my great-grandfather. The rumor about me and Jane doesn’t exactly help sell bottles anddiapers.
Hale Co. stocks dropped, and I’m sure it’s made my dad’s job as the CEO evenharder.
He frowns. “You think I care about the company? You could drive my business into the ground, bud, and as long as you’re breathing and alive and happy, I wouldn’tcare.”
I nod again. Thinking about everything he’s said.Forgivenessisn’t that hard for me—maybe it even comes too easily—but when faced with love or a pointless grudge, I’m going to acceptlove.
Once I find the words, I tell him, “I wouldn’t trade you for any other dad. No bullshit.” I figure he’ll think I’m tiptoeing around him because he’s in a bad place. I kind of am, but I still mean what Isay.
He usually has a response for everything, but he grimaces in thought. Maybe he can tell I’m overly praisinghim.
I run my hand across a hot tub jet. “How’s mom?” I still regret snapping at my mom at the camp. I’ve never yelled at her before, and it may seem like a stupid comparison, but I feel like I kickedher.
“She’s sad,” my dad says, “but I’ve seen hersadder.”
Great.
He gives me this weird look that’s been forming for a while. Like I’ve floated into outer space halfway through ourconversation.
“What?”
“You’re worriedabout us, and we’re the people that hurt you. Jesus Christ, it’sstrange.”
“You’re myparents—”
“And we fucked up.” He winces and then flashes his iconic half-smile. “Where’s the condemnation and the tantrum and theI hate you so much, Mom and Dad,huh?”
He wanted me to put up a fight and knock him down at least once. I actually think there’s a part of him that felt like he deserved it—and fuck that. “I guess I’d just rather love you than hate you. Sorry,” I say with edge that matcheshis.
His face scrunches. “When’s the last time you’vecried?”
I almost shake my head. “Why are you askingthat?”
“Concern.I told you it’s okay to cry growing up, didn’tI?”
“Yeah, you did. All thetime.”
He would say,you can cry,bud.But I must’ve been thirteen the last time I really cried. Someone kept stuffing notes in my locker likeyour mom sucks a lot of dickwith penis doodles. There I was, sobbing into my pillow, and my little brother knocked on my bedroom door. Wanting me to read him a fantasybook.
He was super fucking young, and I remember rubbing my face until all the tears dried. I didn’t want Xander to be afraid of bullies. I realized then that if I showed my cousins and siblings that I couldn’t handle the world—young kids who saw me as a role model, their leader—then they’d never believe theycould.