25. Chapter Twenty-Five #2
About that dumb TikTok of him singing in the background while she lip synced in her costume, of all things.
I look away from his vacant spot, my gaze settling on the edge of the tub, which I can see from where I stand.
The bottle of bubble bath stares at me ominously as the memory of him in my arms, coming undone, resurfaces.
Along with so many more…
“Just leave me alone, please,” I say, tears pooling in my eyes. “You’ve done enough.”
I feel my mother’s arms wrap around me, and I try to push her away, but she holds on like a fucking vice.
“Aaron—” My father calls my name, but it’s Uncle Travis who speaks.
“Betsy’s right. It’s late. It’s been a long night, and we all need time to think,” Uncle Travis says. He grabs for my father’s arm.
“Come on, brother.” I see my father’s shoulders loosen as he lets his brother pull him away.
My dad lets out a relenting sigh. “Fine. But this discussion is not over.” My father says sternly, and I feel the air shift when he leaves the room, Shannon on their tail. She looks back at me with a sad expression.
My mother finally lets go, and I turn away from her.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly.
I collapse on my bed, my head in my hands.
“You’re sorry?” I whisper. “Sorry doesn’t fix it, Mom. Sorry doesn’t just erase it or make it better, it just—”
“You think I don’t know that?” she says, sitting next to me.
“I have made mistakes, Aaron. We all make mistakes,” she says, looking to the door where my father left. “Some of us more than others.”
I shake my head, the softness of her voice making my chest tight. Because her tone is sincere, and I think for the first time in years, she’s being honest with me.
“Yeah, well, I guess mistakes are a dime a dozen in this damn family,” I bite.
“And now I’m fucked,” I say, hanging my arms on my knees, running my hands through my hair. “I lost my shot at the company, and I lost him. ”
She hums quietly. “Jacob, you mean.”
It’s the way she says his name. Reverently. Sweetly. Like she can feel the air is different, too.
And I hate that my heart lifts a little because she sounds like she actually cares, for once.
“Don’t act like you give a shit,” I say. “About my mistakes. Don’t act like you care that I’ve lost everything that fucking mattered to me in the blink of an eye.”
Or more accurately, the truth that destroyed everything, ripping open the stitches of my battered heart.
People always say the truth will set you free, but… if this is freedom, it’s fucking painful as shit.
She sighs. “You can’t lose something you never had,” she says, reaching for my hand. She squeezes it. “Just remember that.”
I don’t look at her because I can’t. I pull my hand from hers.
Her words cut me to the core, because it’s just a reminder of the truth that continues to sink its poison in me.
I can’t lose something I never had.
So why does it hurt so fucking bad if it wasn’t real?
I watch as she gets up, her gaze holding me still.
“Travis is right. We all need a moment to process this… unsettling information. You should get some rest, baby.”
And with that, she leaves me alone.
All I want to do is scream. Fuck Garrett. This is his fault. If I hadn't caught him with Jacob, God only knows what would’ve happened. His words reverberate in my brain.
He hired Jacob. Four years ago.
My heart sank at those words, his admission. Jacob’s confession.
He was the one. The one Garrett used as a catalyst to divorce his last husband.
The man that he manipulated and laughed about over drinks, who he said was naive, and a pussy because he got upset about the whole thing and ran away before he could reap his rewards .
That reward being Garrett’s bitter praise and demands.
Jacob mentioned having an ex where things didn’t end well, but never in a million years did I think he was talking about Garrett.
The man who’d been my lover for decades.
The man I kept at arms length while also using to my advantage, in the same way Garrett liked to use young, sweet men like Jacob like toys.
Knowing he’s slept with Garrett hurts. Like a knife. Knowing Garrett’s preferences, I can’t stop thinking about Jacob in his brutal hold.
Knowing Garrett’s touched him… knowing he’s been inside him…
Knowing that he hurt him… emotionally, and maybe even physically, apart from tonight…
It makes me see red. It makes me want to punch something. Or someone…
If there was any sliver of friendship that existed between Garrett and I, it’s more than disintegrated now.
The last thread between us has officially frayed. Because he hurt someone I love.
Love. The word echoes in my brain, in the cracks of my soul. Because I know without a doubt, I love Jacob Riley.
Not Prince Charming.
I love the man who swoons over sunset beach kisses, who sings in the car, who knows how to drive me mad with his bratty, petulant attitude and his big blue eyes.
I love the former dancer slash stripper turned rent-a-date I hired to be mine.
I fell in love with the man behind the fantasy.
The man who makes silly TikToks and can debate romance novels and whose smile can change your entire perspective on everything.
And now I might’ve lost him . As I fall back into my bed, the truth settles on me. I’m not any better than Garrett, and maybe my dad is right. Maybe I am selfish and undeserving. Like Daisy Buchannon. Privileged and entitled and desperate for something money can’t buy.
Because when I looked at Jacob and asked him to hold up his lie—my lie—I told him exactly what I thought of him.
But it wasn’t true, not by a long shot. All I could focus on at the time was trying to alleviate the tension. I was trying to save face, not just for me, but for him , too.
Because soon enough, the job would be done, and he would go on his way and—
Maybe I wanted to hang on to the illusion more than I wanted my dad to believe it. Maybe I wanted to live in the fantasy of being Jacob’s boyfriend, just a little longer before I knew I’d lose him.
And in the end, I lost him anyway. I fucked it up, just like my dad said I would. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Warm liquid falls down my cheek as I think about his body, warm in my hold as we danced.
I think about his words. About Daisy, being so selfish and undeserving. He was right.
She was. Selfish. Undeserving. But she loved Gatsby anyway. Despite her better judgment and her privilege. Despite the fact that they were such oppositional forces; driven apart by circumstance, but held together by nothing more than an idea, a feeling.
And that feeling, that love existed even in the spaces they couldn’t.
I hear the faintest knock at my door, which stirs me from my melancholic thoughts. I sit up, thinking my mother’s come back, or worse, my father’s decided he wants to finish this conversation now while he’s still hot.
But when I open the door, I see Lola, clad in her powder blue pajamas with her laptop in one hand and two pints of ice cream with two spoons in the other.
She speaks softly, but warmly.
“Have you ever seen Red, White, & Royal Blue? ” she asks, pushing into my room without invitation. I don’t have the strength to tell her to fuck off right now. For starters, she’s a kid, and second, I’m exhausted. Too exhausted to argue with anyone else tonight, for sure.
“No,” I say as she crawls right into Jacob’s spot.
“Well, you’re in for a treat,” she says with a grin as she curls her legs underneath her, her bright blue pajamas standing out against the crisp, white sheets.
She presses play and I settle on the bed next to her, relenting if only for the momentary distraction.
I look at her hair, pulled up in a top bun, her profile still soft, but more pronounced.
Her features have always resembled her mother, but right now, she looks less like the bubbly little girl I’ve known forever, and more like someone I’m just getting to know.
The thought saddens me as much as it makes me feel a sense of pride.
She’s growing up so fast, and I feel slightly guilty I have missed so much.
You left us.
My father’s words echo in my brain. I did. Leave them.
But I’m only starting to realize my parents were not the only ones I’d left.
So I don’t ask her to leave. I get comfortable with her and focus on this fleeting moment.
“What’s it about?”
She hands me a pint of ice cream and a spoon. “It’s a gay contemporary romance.” She shrugs.
“Oh, really?” I say, forcing a smirk.
“Mhmm.” She nods, giving me a sly grin of her own. “About two guys who hook up and fall in love, and have to hide their relationship from the public and their families.”
I raise an eyebrow at her as I open my pint of salted caramel chocolate chip, tossing the lid. I won’t need it.
“This is supposed to make me feel better?” I raise an eyebrow.
She smiles at me. “Just watch the movie, Uncle Aaron.”
I sigh as she presses play.
Halfway through the movie, she’s out like a light. I stop the movie, pick her up, and carry her down the hall to her room. The house is quiet, but not in the peaceful kind of way.
It feels empty because he’s not here.
Jacob makes everything feel warm and full.
I make my way back to my bedroom to get her laptop, when I look at the frozen frame. The way the actors are frozen as they gaze into each other’s eyes…
It reminds me of the way Jacob was looking at me, when he was singing about me seeing him in my wildest dreams.
So, I press play. I keep watching.
I watch as they sneak away, watch as they kiss. Have sex—sort of, considering it’s all shot in a way that you don’t see much, but you know what’s going on—as they fight because the prince won’t cross a line and tell everyone the truth.
And I can’t help but think about Jacob. How even though he knew it would destroy my chance at getting what I wanted… he told the truth.
Knowing it might destroy more than just my chance at taking over my father’s company.