Tyler
Chapter Eighteen
My consolation prize was an empty house to cry in. Dad was still at work when I stormed inside and slammed the door closed behind my back, then stomped up the stairs and shut myself in my room.
By the time I reached my bed, a growl was rising in my throat, and I wanted to scream.
I wanted to fight him. I wanted to march over there and force him to tell me the truth.
Which was it, then? Had he been lying to my face all along?
Or was this some stupid idea he had concocted on the go for…
what? I didn’t know. But this wasn’t like him.
And I should fucking know! I had known him for over twenty years. If anyone in this world knew how Sebastian acted, it wasn’t his fanatic father or his distant mother. It was me.
I was too furious to cry and too hurt to rage. In the end, I merely wrapped my arms around a pillow and panted like I was running out of air.
When I shut my eyes, all I saw was Sebastian. And when I opened them, the room was tilting and spinning around me that I wanted to vomit.
I kept them open.
I couldn’t face the mental images that ran through my mind.
I couldn’t stand to remember him with paint smeared all over his face when his biggest problem in life was whether or not he dared to bottom for me.
I couldn’t let my mind take me back to the basement of our team house, to the drunken night when we’d talked about soulmates, and I realized with unshakable clarity that he was mine.
For all the good it did me.
Soulmates or not, Sebastian was as stubborn as a mule.
If he was fixed on an idea, there was no budging.
However frustrating, I loved his stubbornness as much as everything else about him.
But he wasn’t going to change his mind. He’d made a terrible decision, not giving a fuck about me for the first time in my memory, and he would stick with it if I knew the first thing about him.
How could he?
The question echoed through my head, but I knew better than to think about it. It only hurt to wonder. Searching for answers was pointless. Either he was telling the truth when he said he didn’t want to continue, or he kept his reasons hidden. If that was the case, I couldn’t hope to find out.
I buried my face in the pillow and released the growl that had been suffocating me. It turned out to be little more than a moan.
Again, the images welled up in my mind. I recalled every beautiful moment of catching a glimpse of him on the ice as he skillfully tackled the opponents, stealing the puck and sending it to our guys, earning us victories time after time.
I remembered his naked body, Sebastian lying on his front, his gorgeous ass curved and lifted, his head resting in the fold of his arm, his upper back rising with heated breaths of anticipation.
I remembered what it felt like to hold him close, his back and my front pressed together, the sweat of our bodies mingling on us, my soul merging with his, our sighs and gasps matching and mixing.
I didn’t realize I was crying until Dad’s return pulled me back from my memories. Cheeks wet, eyes grainy like Sebastian had thrown a fistful of sand into my face, I sat up and heaved a deep breath.
The last thing I wanted was for someone to see me like this. And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to stand up.
I wanted to sleep forever. And to dream. To dream like I had dreamed all the nights I’d spent with him.
Dad’s brief routine upon returning from work bought me enough time to drag my ass into the bathroom and wash my face. I could do nothing about the redness in my eyes or the lack of life my body displayed. Numbness was setting in and I couldn’t smile if my life depended on it.
My heart murmured softly while I descended the stairs.
I knew that Dad would shower after work, put on his home clothes, and check in on the miniature in the garage before coming to find me.
I also knew that if I remained in my room, I would curl up in my bed, and he would find a disintegrating mess instead of his son.
A shell of a boy he loved. So I had to find him first.
When I walked into the garage, I found him gazing over his creation. It’s a better world, I realized. It was a utopia that he had made and was constantly improving, expanding, and renewing.
I looked at him as new tears stung my eyes and my face contorted with grief.
All my life, I’d seen myself as a lost and helpless boy, abandoned by his mother, too much for his father to handle, and dependent on the one good friend who cheered him up.
I’d never thought of my mother as my father’s wife.
I’d never truly empathized with Dad’s loss when his wife had abandoned him.
For all the hurt of seeing her leave, I had never considered what it had been like for Dad. He was suddenly left with a small boy to raise and no experience, a broken heart, and a lack of emotional stability that had plagued him his entire life.
You did the best you could, I thought as I crossed the room and threw my arms around him.
I hadn’t meant to do this. I hadn’t meant to let my emotions run away from me so wildly, but I couldn’t stop it now.
I was hugging my dad hard like my life depended on it.
I was holding him because he was all I had.
And I owed him the appreciation I’d never realized I’d withheld. I wished I had been more understanding.
“You were a great dad,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. I wiped them angrily, holding Dad close so he couldn’t see my face.
Dad hugged me back patiently. When the storm of emotions calmed down, I allowed us to pull away from one another. For most of my life, Sebastian had been the person I hugged when I needed this. Or, if not hugging, we played silly games until we forgot what had upset us in the first place.
“What’s this for?” Dad asked with a shy smile on his lips.
My throat tightened. “I didn’t tell you that enough,” I said. And I hadn’t told Sebastian how I felt when I should have. But that ship had sailed. I wouldn’t get that chance again. So I could do the next best thing and start saying things before it was too late. And I could start with Dad.
My lip must have quivered because concern rose in Dad’s eyes. “Hey. Buddy.” His soothing voice was still a little raspy and gruff.
I tried to turn away from him and hide the welling emotions, but he took my shoulder and held me firmly. He looked over my face, and when I lifted my gaze, he looked into my eyes.
“Tyler, what’s wrong?” he asked, smoothing out the last traces of roughness from his voice.
I frowned to still my contorting face and shook my head.
Dad sighed and squeezed my shoulder. “Girl trouble?” he asked.
I wanted to laugh. Was I so obvious? Was there nothing else in the world that could have troubled me? But the truth dragged the corners of my lips down as I looked at him. Fear must have shown itself on my face. And, as I shook my head, Dad blinked.
Did I dare risk it? Did I dare tell him now? And what for, anyway? I wasn’t into any other guy on the planet. The one I loved was gone, so why go through the whole ordeal?
Before I could make up my mind, Dad asked: “Boy trouble?”
My mouth opened and no sound came out. I licked my lips as I closed my mouth, then bit the lower one hard. It was impossible to look into his eyes, and yet I couldn’t look away.
Dad nodded a few times, briefly. “I wasn’t there for you, Tyler,” he said gently, his nods turning into head shakes. “I should have been there more, but I wasn’t.”
A frown creased the space between my eyebrows and I cocked my head.
“We shouldn’t have waited until you were well into your twenties to talk about this, Son,” he said.
The stupendous relief that I felt at this was almost like being catapulted into the stars. I didn’t know how to react. It was simply a sensation that filled me to bursting, this joy and love I felt for him.
“So,” Dad said, hesitating. “It’s boy trouble, eh? Well, that’s not too different from girl trouble, I think.” He released my shoulder and rubbed his hands together. “I’m no expert, but I can listen.”
I wanted to cry more than before, not less, although part of it was pure happiness.
This was who I was and Dad didn’t care if it was different from what he’d thought.
How much purer can a relationship be? But I didn’t want to tell him.
Not about Sebastian, who was deep in the closet, and not about the weird, senseless way it all went down.
So I cleared my throat. “It’ll pass,” I said.
Dad was probably a little relieved. It had taken him years to even start coping with being left.
“Show me the train again,” I said.
If not for my sake, then for his, this turned out to be the best thing I could have asked for.
He was delighted that I would request it.
Without any hesitation, he smiled and pulled me over, getting me familiar with the tracks and the controls on the remote controller he had.
Then, when I was up to speed, he handed the remote to me.
For a moment, I could almost feel the appeal of it.
A place where you made the rules and where everything was just so simple and easy.
The train had its tracks and the villages had its purpose and the people lived under a perpetually blue sky.
It was as close to escaping from the pit of despair as I could get and I took every moment I was offered.