Page 64 of His Gift
“He thought I was just some grifter who was after Shawn’s money,” I stepped in, actually defending the man. “I’m not going to say that didn’t hurt or that I’m not offended, but now that everything is okay, I can totally see that he was just trying to protect his family.”
“You don’t need to protect me like that,” Shawn insisted. “I’m a grown man and an alpha. I love Enzo, and if he’ll have me, I want to marry him and raise a family with him.”
I jerked to face him, trying and failing to hide a smile. “Did you just propose to me by telling off your father?” I asked, doing my best to imitate Anthony’s level of incredulity.
Shawn blushed all over again. “I—oh. Shoot. Sorry.” He cleared his throat, then said, “Enzo, will you marry me?”
I laughed. “You want me to marry into this weird family of yours?”
“Honestly, we’re not that weird,” Anthony said, stepping closer to his husband. “We’re just woefully dysfunctional.”
“You can say that again,” Walt mumbled. He stood slightly to the side with a grimace, a hand on his back and one on his belly, looking supremely uncomfortable. “I need to sit down, but I don’t want to miss any of this.”
I was ready to do something to help, but as it turned out, the alpha in the booth we were standing next to was listening in, whether he should have been or not.
“Here,” he said in a quiet, surprisingly soothing voice, whipping one of the chairs from behind his table and bringing it over for Walt to sit on.
Walt glanced up at him, looking shocked that anyone would help him. His face flushed when he met the alpha’s eyes, then glanced down at his supremely ugly Christmas sweater, then back up at his eyes again. He sat down hard, nearly losing his balance, but the alpha steadied him, his smile growing.
“I’m Brendan,” the alpha said. “Dr. Brendan Trove.”
“You’re a doctor?” Walt asked.
“Psychologist,” the alpha said. “I’m here to share about my counseling services.” He grinned, then added, “You wouldn’t happen to need counseling, would you?”
I nearly laughed out loud. “Yes, he absolutely does. But can we finish the family drama first?”
“Oh. Sorry,” Dr. Brendan Trove said, stepping back to his booth. Once he was there, he held up a business card and showed Walt.
Walt actually smiled back at him, though the expression looked new and fragile for him. I really hoped that we’d justwitnessed the beginning of something, because, seriously, Walt deserved to be happy, too.
“So where were we?” I asked, focusing back in on the family drama.
Shawn smiled and pulled me into his arms. “You were about to answer my question about whether you would do me the honor of joining this weird family by marrying me.”
I smiled all over again, feeling warm and happy. “Well, I’m weird, too, so I might as well.”
Shawn laughed. “You could have just said yes,” he said, beaming at me, his eyes shining with love and affection.
“Yes,” I said. “I will marry you, Shawn Wythe.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Mr. Wythe said, smiling gruffly at the two of us, “perhaps we should get on with this event.”
“Not so fast,” Anthony said, holding out a hand to stop him before he could run away from the emotional moment. I was beginning to see that Mr. Wythe didn’t like emotions at all. “You still haven’t apologized for being an ass, Tristan.”
“Me?” Mr. Wythe looked surprised.
Anthony sighed, but took his husband’s hand. “Life hasn’t been easy for any of us, despite our wealth,” he said. “I’m not trying to play a game of ‘woe is me’, because I know other people have had things much worse than us,” he looked at me with an apologetic smile, “but we’ve had our scars, too. We don’t talk much about how your father and I came to be together,” he said, glancing between Shawn and Walt, “but maybe we should have. Maybe we should have told you more about how we were ridiculed and ostracized, and about the conditions our families placed on us so that we could be received back into their homes again.”
“Conditions?” Walt asked incredulously from his chair. “Who would impose conditions on their own children just for being a part of the family?”
Anthony and Mr. Wythe exchanged a look. “It was a different time back then,” Mr. Wythe said. “I can see that now, see that we’re not in those days anymore. I…I shouldn’t have been so strict and controlling of you two boys. I shouldn’t have made you compete against each other in order to achieve excellence. That was how I was treated by my parents, but that’s no excuse for doing the same for you.”
There was a cough to the side, and Dr. Brendan Trove murmured, “Generational trauma.”
I grinned a little and leaned into Shawn. “You can say that again,” I mumbled as well.
Funnily, the emotions I felt radiating from Shawn through our new bond were still relief and contentment. I didn’t feel a lick of resentment or anger from him at all, and it could definitely be argued that he had a right to be furious with his parents for letting their trauma get all over him. My alpha really was a goody-two-shoes, but I loved him for it.
