Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Nate
Four Months Later
It’s a very normal Friday night in New York City when I walk into the bar and see him sitting by himself in the far corner booth nursing a whiskey.
His phone is nowhere to be seen, so I know it was a hard day at work. It’s no wonder really, he’s under a lot of pressure, but the moment he sees me, his shoulders relax marginally, and I remember once more that I can be a real dumbass sometimes.
It’s something I’ve been reminded of during countless conversations in the last four months.
It’s been... humbling.
To say the fucking least.
Back on the yacht, when I realized ten minutes had passed and Ru hadn’t come out of the bathroom where I thought he’d gone, I walked over to the closed door and talked to it.
Like an idiot .
I apologized again, and since I was only facing a door and not the man who had turned me inside out, it was easier to be brave. To explain everything better.
It took me another fifteen minutes to realize he wasn’t there.
Two more minutes spent frantically looking for him all over the yacht, and then five minutes later Chase told me he’d left.
Just over half an hour to make me experience opposing emotions with a fervor that I didn’t know I had in me.
I didn’t understand how he could just leave.
I wanted to go after him.
I wanted to fucking strangle him.
But then...
Well, then I started drinking and didn’t stop until I was physically unable.
Seth, Kit, and Tony helped over the next two days.
They distracted me mostly, but they also got some sense into me.
By the time we were boarding the plane back home I wasn’t angry or panicked anymore, I was just sad.
I’ve never been good at being sad. It’s not enjoyable to me. Not like my sister who loves watching The Notebook and crying so much she finishes a brand new box of tissues.
Two weeks after arriving home, I admitted that I couldn’t blame Ru for leaving the way he had and decided to get back to my life.
To real life.
So that’s what I’m doing now.
“You demanded I get out of the house only to see you like this?” I motion toward his sad state and grimace. “This really isn’t your look, Seth.”
“Shut the fuck up and sit down,” he says without any heat.
“What the hell happened to you today?”
“Just work,” he says with a sigh, and goes back to staring down at his drink.
“You’re the one who was excited about this. You know only half your trust fund is dependent on you working for the company, right?” I talk low as I lean in so he doesn’t even have to lift his head that much to look at me.
See? I’m a great friend.
“I’m not working there for my trust fund.”
He sounds so damn defeated, this just won’t do.
“Seth,” I say, still speaking low but with more urgency now. “You love your job. Just tell me what happened, please.”
He looks up and I can see in his eyes that it’s something real.
Something important.
He opens his mouth to tell me but then shakes his head and looks away.
“It’s not—I can’t right now, okay? Let’s just wait for Kit and Tony to get here.”
I stay quiet for a long moment, trying to find the answers in his pained expression, but there’s no way I can read his mind. I’ve never seen him like this. I have no clue what could be happening.
Eventually, though, I realize that pushing him now could do more bad than good. So I nod, then hail the waiter over.
It’s less than ten minutes later that Tony and Kit arrive, looking happy enough and smiling as they walk over.
We get drinks, order dinner, and talk about everything the way we always have.
I tease them about their jobs, they tease me about being a hobo, though they know better, and Seth’s frown smooths over little by little throughout the evening and then the night.
I’m pretty sure he comes close to drinking the equivalent of his body weight, but I don’t stop or question him again.
If getting shit-faced is what he thinks he needs, then who am I to argue?
Instead, at four in the morning, I half carry him out of a club we ended up going to, and over to his brother’s car.
His security is there to help me, and so is Zac.
“He okay?” he asks quietly when he greets me with a hug. The hug isn’t usual for us, but it’s also not super weird that I think twice about returning it.
“I honestly don’t know. He didn’t tell me what happened,” I hurry to add, so Zac doesn’t pry or say something my best friend doesn’t want me to know. “He just said he needed to get drunk and I provided.”
Zac’s smile looks tired and honestly fake as fuck, so I simply pat his shoulder and nod back at the SUV.
“I’m here for you both if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” he croaks, surprising me. That’s more emotion than I’ve ever seen in him, so this really has to be serious.
Again, I realize it’s not really my place to pry, we’ve all got shit going on in our lives. I nod for him to climb in next to a sleeping Seth and step back.
Since I told Yates, my driver, to go home hours ago, I call a car after they drive off, and breathe deeply.
I really was a dumbass, thinking I’d basically never see my friends again after we came back from Australia. I jeopardized whatever relationship I could’ve had with the lord because of that fear, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life.
But at least I have them.
It’s a very good at least .
* * *
I don’t bother turning on the lights when I arrive home and step out of the elevator. I’ve lived here all my life, and though Mom oversaw remodels of the penthouse more than a couple of times in my lifetime, the layout is as ingrained in me as my name.
But I’ve only taken five steps down the hallway when a light turns on in the formal living room.
Like the villain of a B-grade movie, my father’s sitting there glaring at me, with a whiskey tumbler in his hand, wearing his fancy-ass pajamas and hate filling his eyes.
Oh well, having a perfect night seems to be something I’ll never experience again, it seems .
Of course, I could’ve moved out at any time over the last four months.
But that would’ve meant explaining to my father why I’m able to move out, where I got the money, and another conversation on how I need to get my act together and come work with him.
That is something I’ve had more than enough of in my lifetime, so no thank you.
“Night, Dad,” I say when he doesn’t speak. Acting normally seems to be the way to go here. I might be angry with him, I might resent him, but there’s enough anger in his eyes for both of us, and I’m fucking tired.
“Night?” he asks through gritted teeth.
Here we go , is all I can think as he stands slowly. And seriously all these theatrics are tiring.
“You come in here at almost five in the morning and say night, Dad ?!” I can tell he’s trying not to shout and that he’s about to go off on a tangent, so I keep my mouth shut and settle in. “You’re better than this, Nathaniel. You’re wasting your life away.”
I want to scoff at that. I’m only twenty-four for fuck’s sake, but again, I’ve heard it all before, and I’ve said it all before, so I just keep... my... mouth... shut.
“When you came back from your little trip I thought you’d finally come to your senses, but then you said no. I don’t fucking understand how you can turn away an opportunity like this one. How you can throw away your future. The worst part is, you don’t even seem to care. You’ve never appreciated everything we’ve done for you and?—”
“I’ve always appreciated it,” I interrupt him, my words louder than I intended. “I appreciate it all, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit,” I practically hiss at him. “You can take all your expectations and shove them up your ass, Dad ,” I add mockingly. “I’m not going to be your puppet. I’m not going to be your clone?—”
“That’s abundantly clear,” he says with a scoff, and I actually feel like I’m boiling on the inside.
“Exactly. So get it through your head already. I’m not going to work for you, and I’m not going to act the way you want me to. You want me to leave?” I spread my arms wide, hoping it will show him how not afraid of him I am. “I’ll leave in the morning if having me here, living my life the way I want to live it, is so fucking inconvenient to you.”
“That’s not what I want, Nathaniel?—”
“Then what do you fucking want?” I scream because I can’t fucking listen to him sound defeated. “I’m not going to work for you. Accept that, and then figure out what you want from me, because if you keep pushing this, then you’re not going to see me anymore. I can’t keep hearing the same fucking speech every night.”
“I want you to get a job. To stop living in this imaginary world where you don’t have to do anything to get what you want?—”
“I know damn well I can’t get what I want,” I interrupt him again. The emotional hitch in my voice clearly takes him aback, and I’m instantly mortified.
Clearly I haven’t succeeded in moving on with my life.
“I’m going to sleep. You should do the same.” I speak quickly, hoping it’s enough to avoid any more of this conversation.
“Nate—”
“Night, Dad,” I repeat, and walk away.
It’s better if I just walk away, because he’d probably laugh at the tears brimming in my eyes.