Chapter 38 Man To Man - Spencer
For the first time in forty years, I was watching the only woman I’d ever cared this deeply for walk away. When someone said they, “needed time to think,” there were always words unspoken attached to the end of that sentence.
Avery stepped into the elevator, and since I’d met her, I had never felt like I did in this moment.
She was taking my heart and the key to my happiness with her.
As if time stood still, and nothing else around us mattered, Avery locked her teary eyes with mine before the doors closed.
I could read Avery like a book, and her eyes told me that as much as she loved me, as strong as this bond between us was, she had to protect her peace, and with Jackson mixing into our lives, this was no longer her safe space.
The doors closed and the elevator whisked her away. With every second that flew by without her here, my anger brewed to the surface, waiting to erupt.
My eyes veered away from the elevator doors, catching Jackson slumped on the couch with his head tipped back.
How could this young man who’d done so many fucked up things be my son?
Out of all the kids in the world that could have been given to me later in life, why this one?
My mind went back to Avery fleeing from the bathroom, the rage I felt burning through every inch of my body as I felt her shaking in my hands, and the fear in her eyes being branded into my memories.
I’d done my best to tame my anger and push it down with my best efforts to mediate the three of us talking.
But after I watched the woman I love walk away, I scolded myself for going so easy on Jackson.
If he refused to be a good son, and a decent human being, he didn’t deserve the side of me that was doing my best to attempt to be a good father.
It was time we had a conversation. Man to man.
Without looking back, I straightened my shoulders, opening the balcony door.
“Get the fuck up.” I slammed the door behind me, surprised when the glass didn’t shatter.
“What the fuck?”
Jackson jolted from the couch like a child in trouble.
“Avery’s gone and I’m done holding back.” I gripped the back of the couch, needing to hold tight onto something that wasn’t my son’s neck.
“Give me your worst, Spencer,” he spat.
“So, what? It’s Dad when you want something from me, but Spencer when you can’t find it in yourself to fucking respect me?” A manic laugh ripped from the deepest parts of my chest.
“Oh, you think Dad ever felt normal to me? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I forced that word into my vocabulary when I needed something from you.”
“Unbelievable.” I shook my head, trying to find the right words. “What were you fucking thinking, Jackson? Do you understand that I could snap my fingers right now and have you arrested?”
“What are you waiting for then?!” he belted before raising his hands in the air.
He was my fucking son, dammit.
Why couldn’t he see that I was hanging on by a thread here? That I wanted to disown him with every inch of my being but couldn’t commit to cutting the cord because he was my own flesh and blood?
“You’re an ungrateful bastard, you know that?”
“Yeah, Spencer, I’m aware.”
His eyes rolled into the back of his head so dramatically that it almost felt like I was turning back time and seeing him in his teenage years, grounding him for staying out after curfew. Instead, it was much, much worse than that.
Jackson shook his head, walking toward the elevator.
“You will not leave until you tell me why.” My voice boomed through the open space.
“You know why. I explained.” He threw his hands up in the air before holding one up to count on his fingers for each pathetic reason.
With one finger raised, he spoke through gritted teeth.
“I was a horny guy in his early twenties who wanted to spice things up between me and my long-term girlfriend.” Another finger went up.
“I regretted my decision the very next day, and instead of handling it like a mature adult would, I went off the fucking rails, okay?” He added another finger.
“And when it came to you, I met you when I was already on a downward spiral with Avery, just to find out I had easy access to as much money as I could pull out of you.”
Out of breath from his rant, he dropped his hand, and our eyes battled to see who would drop the stare off first.
“There’s more. I can see it in your eyes,” I called his bluff.
“Oh, don’t act like you know me,” he scoffed.
“You know what, Jackson? I don’t know you. But I know a liar when I see one.”
He huffed at a loss for words, and after a pause that felt like a lifetime, his face softened, and he dropped the act he’d been working overtime to keep up.
“Avery doesn’t know this…” he started, my jaw clenching while I anticipated the worst. “That night—the night of the video—those guys convinced me to send it to them right then and there. They offered me five hundred dollars on the spot. They said they had the ability to rake in a lot of money. That the more clicks and views it got, the more they’d make.
I was convinced that we’d split the money three ways. ”
“Let me guess … They paid you off with the five hundred dollars and you never saw a dime after the fact?”
Jackson looked at his feet like he’d finally lost the battle.
“The fact that you think Avery is only worth five hundred dollars is fucking insane, you know that?” I took a deep breath, willing the rage inside me to simmer.
“Yeah, I fucking know that, okay?”
“So, in your own sick and twisted way, you made your own money off the video by blackmailing her for hundreds of thousands of dollars, and letting her fall victim to your fucked up idea of recording her?”
“Yes. And I’m a fucking bastard for it, in every sense of the word.
I’m an idiot and I became fully aware of that the moment this all came crashing down.
Possibly even sooner—I just didn’t know how to dig myself out of this massive hole I created.
” Jackson’s breath sped up and sweat started to seep through his gray T-shirt.
“I spent so long living in the skin of a p-person I didn’t fucking recognize.” His breathing became short, and he grasped in front of him for something to hold on to, but nothing was in reach.
Jackson fell to his knees and grabbed his chest, and as angry as I was with him, I reached out to help.
“Jackson, breathe.” I lowered down to his level, resting my hands on each shoulder. “Breathe in,” I mimicked a deep breath, “And breathe out.” I let out my breath, repeating the process for a minute or two.
“I-I’m s-sorry,” he stuttered through deep breaths.
“Don’t. Just breathe.”
It was obvious he was experiencing a panic attack, and I didn’t want it to get worse.
“W-what’s happening?” he asked as tears started to stream down his face.
“Shhh. It’s just a panic attack. Breathe. Try to relax and shut your eyes.”
For a few moments, we sat in the middle of the floor, putting our conversation on the back burner as I helped bring him down from everything he was feeling. I was battling wanting to help him and wanting to leave him to fend for himself.
“Dad—”
My heart pinched at the sound of that word coming from him.
I wasn’t Spencer; I was Dad. He needed me.
“No.” I shook my head.
I didn’t want to hear him to call me Dad right now. I didn’t feel like a dad. Dads don’t scream at their kids and give them panic attacks.
“I know you don’t want to hear it.” His breathing started to return to normal.
“I went about all of this horribly. I did things that I’ll never understand how I took them so far, and I’ll forever regret.
You didn’t deserve it, and neither did Avery.
Please, Dad—” he sobbed. “I need you. I’m so sorry.
Please don’t give up on me.” Each plea dug its way into my cracked heart, and he was in control of the hammer.
In the most fucked up way, Jackson was begging for a relationship with me, but in this moment, even with him damaged and at his weakest, I couldn’t give him an answer. In a perfect world, I’d have Avery and Jackson in my life, and none of this would have ever happened. But that wasn’t my reality.
“I just need time.” I found myself saying the same words Avery used on me earlier, and as much as I hated that we all needed time, I understood it, even if it left my heart broken in thirds.