25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aaron
“What the fuck were you thinking?” my father growls as he follows me into the house, my mother hot on his trail.
“Lola, go to your room,” Aunt Shannon commands as Uncle Travis tries to tell my dad to calm down.
“But—”
“Listen to your mother, please…” Travis says with a sigh. Lola catches my gaze, her frown making me feel even more like shit.
I head for my bedroom, not giving a shit about my father. I throw the door open with a slam, and the emptiness is more than apparent. Jacob’s suitcases and duffel are gone, the bed still unmade.
Though I can see him plain as day, tangled up in the sheets like a ghost as the memories resurface.
“Aaron!” my father bites.
“This is your fault!” I sneer, turning around in my room, glaring at my father.
“My fault?” he gripes. “I didn’t force you to hire a—” He gulps, the disgust evident on his tongue. “To bring an escort into our home and—”
“He’s a professional date! Not an escort!
And besides, you gave me no choice! What was I supposed to do?
” I yell. “Every boyfriend I’ve ever had, you snubbed your nose at, refused to acknowledge, just as you refused to accept that I’m not some…
some fucking Prince Charming!” I snap. “All I have ever done was try to be good enough for you! But nothing I ever did—not the properties I managed or the charity work I’ve done, or the connections I’ve made…
none of it means anything to you if I’m not some picture-perfect husband with a goddamn picket fence! ”
“Do not put this on me,” my father growls. “I have only held you to a higher standard, Aaron, because you are my son. You will always be held to a higher standard, in this house and outside of it, don’t you understand that?”
“Oh, but Garrett was a choice?” My voice is so loud the windows shake.
“Garrett, the manipulative, conniving son of a bitch who you’ve been complaining about for I don’t know… since the dawn of fucking time?”
My father steps up to me, his gaze furious. “I thought you, of all people, would have rejoiced at the idea of a merger, considering you were having an affair with the man for twenty years.”
My blood runs cold. Because it’s the harsh way he says the words. It’s the fire in his gaze.
He knew. All this time, he fucking knew, and he never said a word.
“You knew.” My voice shakes as I look up at him. My father’s always been a formidable presence, but now, I can’t help but feel exposed in an entirely new way.
“Of course, I knew,” he seethes. “You're my son. You think just because you two were colleagues of the same sex, rubbing elbows at events that no one would suspect? That hiding in Tempest hotels and leaving early from parties and keeping me and your mother at a distance would cover up your lie?”
He sneers. “If you had been honest with me, Aaron, about your intentions, about your feelings for Garrett—”
“I have no feelings for that asshole,” I snap. “I never did.” I scowl at my father. “Garrett Tempest was just…”
I let out a heavy sigh. What could I say?
It wasn’t just the sex that kept me spinning the wheels for two decades.
It was that Garrett was the closest thing I had to a friend, the closest thing I had to someone who cared.
About me. Someone who knew the real me and continued to show up, even if it was purely for sex.
In a way, that was better, because I knew at least he didn’t want my money. Just my cock.
And for a while that was enough. Until it wasn’t.
Until I grew tired of empty fucking and forced submission.
Fuck, does that make me an asshole? Because I wanted more ?
Not from Garrett, but from someone. Was it wrong to want those things from someone else when I knew I’d never get those things from a man who didn’t value actual feelings? A man who purposely hurt the people he’s supposed to love?
“See, that’s what your problem really is.
You don’t give a fuck about anyone but you.
You think you deserve to be CEO? Of this empire I built from the ground with my own fucking hands?
Because you’re ruthless and ambitious and resourceful?
” He shakes his head. I know he’s bitter right now, but I’ve never heard him say anything like that.
Refer to me as anything but a giant pain in his ass.
But I don’t have time to process his momentary praise, no matter how venomous it is, because he fixes his angry gaze on me.
“Because you're simply my son.” He looks away from me. “As if blood alone makes you deserving.” Travis comes to stand beside him, offering me a sad, guilty gaze. My father crosses his arms, turning back to glare at me.“But you don’t care, Aaron . You say you do, but you don’t give a shit about this company.
You don’t give a shit about anything except your own damn feelings! ”
“Tony—” my mother snaps. “That’s enough, Aaron has always—”
“Look at the man’s history! All he’s ever done is what was good for him —never for us or his family, or this company. He left, for God’s sakes, Bets!”
“Are you fucking serious, right now?” I lunge towards him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, I feel my mother’s hand on my arm.
“Aaron,” my mother’s soft voice pulls me from my panic. “Don’t.”
My mother’s eyebrows furrow. “And you!” I look at her, the tears pooling in my eyes.
“You're no better, Mom. Every boyfriend I ever had wasn’t good enough for you. And every fundraiser or event, every opening or ribbon cutting, I went above and beyond, but you never once stood your ground. You told me it was my life and my choice, but you dismissed every boyfriend like they were last year’s handbags and not once have you ever come to an opening of mine.
You’ve never so much as blinked at my choices, until now. Until I brought—”
“Because those boys didn’t deserve you, Aaron. You know that. They were not here for you. They were here for the Everett name. They weren’t right for you or this family, and the company—”
“Fuck the company!” I yell. “It was my choice! But you only wanted to keep Evermore’s image clean. You wanted to keep me as far from this as you could!”
My mother’s eyebrows furrow. Years of pain, of turmoil unravel as I come undone, my voice shaking with the buried bones of all the things I’ve never said, all the things I’ve kept to myself for far too long.
“All you had to do was support me, Mom. All you had to do was be in my fucking corner,” I cry.
“How could I be in your corner, Aaron, when you weren’t even here to give anyone a chance?” my dad bites. “You’re the one who left us.”
I grind my teeth as I look at him, noting the hint of sadness, of remorse in his eyes.
“You want to know why I moved? Because I was sick of living my life according to your standards.” I shake my head.
“I was sick of being your last fucking choice. The thing you could never love and accept because I wasn’t who you wanted me to be!
” I growl, the words falling out of my mouth without warning. “Because I wasn’t Mr. Fucking Perfect.”
“Everything I have done, I have done for you!” he bellows.
I kick the bed, fury building inside of me, pouring out of me like steam from a hot kettle.
“No. That’s not true.” I shake my head. “You haven’t done shit for me!
” My shoulders tense. “All you’ve ever done is put your company above your family, and you stand there and call me selfish?
When you knew all I’ve ever wanted was this fucking company!
” I hiss. “Because no one’s ever wanted me! ” The tears fester in my eyes.
“The only home I’ve ever had was Evermore !” I cry. “All I have is fucking Evermore !” My voice echoes in the space, ringing with the unleashed anguish of a lifetime.
My mother chokes out a sob. “Aaron…”
“I gave you everything!” my father yells. “I gave you the best childhood a son could ask for! You wanted for nothing, and it was because of me! Because of Evermore . And you’re going to stand there and tell me you have nothing but these fucking hotels? You are the one who left!”
His voice shakes, and I can see the tears in his eyes.
“You left us!” he bellows and I hear the guilt, the pain etched in his voice.
“You think I don’t want happy ever fucking after?
That I don’t want the things you want me to have?
” I snarl. “I want those things! But the reality is those things don’t exist for me!
And it’s not because I’m gay, Dad.” My eyes feel the onslaught of tears, and I think this is it.
This is the point in my life where I finally break.
“It’s because my last name is Everett, and all anyone ever sees when they look at me is your last name and the zeroes that follow it. ”
There’s a heavy silence between us as my dad looks at me with watery eyes, my mother’s hand on my arm, warm and sweaty.
He sighs. “Aaron, you can have everything you ever want if you just stop pushing everyone and everything away. ”
His voice is harsh, yet choked and strained. I’ve never heard him like this before. His gaze falls from my face to my bed. To my tangled sheets.
My eyes rove over Jacob’s side of the bed. I can still envision Jacob here, in the space. Legs threaded through mine, wrapped up in the soft sheets as the morning dawn falls over his perfect features. Bright eyes gazing up at me with excitement and mischief.
My father’s words hurt more than anything else he’s said tonight.
You’ll never have everything you want. If you keep pushing everyone and everything away.
And it dawns on me that maybe he’s right. Maybe I have pushed people away. Because it was easier than sustaining the blow of being left, of being rejected. Of being second best.
“Aaron…” My mother’s voice is soft, breaking through the heaviness. I can hear Lola’s music down the hall. Some Taylor Swift song going on about champagne problems, and stupidly, I can’t help but think about Jacob.