39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Dinner comes out better than I expected it would. For not having made anything in years, chicken parmesan wasn’t super difficult, but it isn’t the easiest thing either.
“This is delicious, Bryson. Where did you learn to cook?”
I grin at him. “I actually can’t remember the last time I used a stove to cook anything.”
“No way.”
“Seriously. My dad has cooks, and all we had in my dorm was a microwave. I cooked more when I was here, and it wasn’t often since you did it.”
He points at his plate with his fork. “I’m impressed.”
That has me grinning from ear to ear. I really needed to hear that.
“Thank you for making me dinner,” he adds. “This is much better than the business meeting I had planned.”
“Glad you think so.” I glance toward the counter. “I should have made something for dessert.”
He groans a sound that has my dick twitching. “Dessert does sound good. We could go for ice cream?”
“Ice cream?” I raise a brow.
He shrugs, getting up to clear our dishes. “Why not?”
He rinses them, and I get up to open the dishwasher and put them in. I put the soap in and start it.
“Ice cream sounds great.”
“My treat,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
Once the table is wiped down, we head out. There’s an ice cream place down on Main Street that we go to. It’s on the corner by the park, so we get our order and find a bench to sit on by the walking path. There are tables by the ice cream place, but the view here is better. We’re across from a side street where the enormous fountain is, so we get a clear view of it.
There is a playground toward the back of the park and a baseball field even further back where all the little league teams play. But the front over here, by the street, is full of trees and benches that the town decorates for the holidays. During the Christmas season, they go all out with lights. And for Halloween, they do a spooky trail.
“I’m sorry about Chris,” Cole says out of nowhere.
“Don’t apologize for him. It isn’t your fault.”
“I can’t help but feel like it is my fault.”
“Why would you feel that way?”
He digs into his cup for a bite of ice cream before answering. Cole was boring and got plain vanilla with hot fudge. I wasn’t holding back and got my favorite of coffee ice cream with peanut butter, Oreo cookies, caramel sauce, and extra whipped cream.
“Because I’m his father. I raised him.”
“You raised him to be better than this. What he does isn’t because of what you did or didn’t do. You are a good father.”
I make sure to say are, so he understands that he still is a good father. He raised Chris as best he could, and in my opinion, he did a spectacular job.
“Honestly, I think Chris was tired of me comparing you to my father. I don’t know if he’s mad that I’m right or just mad about me whining about how terrible mine is.” Cole nods but doesn’t say anything. “I want to tell you why Chris is upset with you, but I don’t feel like it’s my place. You understand that, right?”
He sighs heavily, and says, “I do. And I respect you for being loyal to your friend.”
“I’m not sure loyal is the word I’d choose,” I mutter.
“Why’s that?”
I hold his stare. “Because of what I’ve done with you.”
His face falls, and he gives me a sad smile before going back to his ice cream. We sit in silence for a little while. I watch people pass, listen to the birds in the trees. It’s nice over here. If only the people in town weren’t such assholes, this place would be almost perfect.
“Where is your job?” Cole asks after a little while.
“Flashfire Ad Agency.”
“No, shit? I did some work there.”
“Really?” I ask, perking up a little.
“Yeah, they did a re-branding thing about two years ago. My crew did all the painting inside. Knocked some walls down. Built a few to make new offices. When do you start?”
Shit. I forgot all about the email. I pull out my phone and check them. There it is. I open it up and read through the proposal. Hopefully they don’t take my lack of responding right away as anything other than forgetfulness.
“Says if I accept, they want me to start a week from Monday.”
Cole puts his hand on my thigh, squeezing. “I’m proud of you, Bryson. You’ve come a long way with not much support. You follow your dreams instead of listening to what others want. You do you.”
I smile, loving how comforting his touch is and how good his words make me feel about myself.
“I did have support. From you and Chris.”
“Bryson?” The bitter tone of that voice has me looking up. Cole too. I don’t miss the way he subtly removes his hand from my thigh at the sight of my father.
Fuck.
“Dad.” There is no emotion to my voice, besides the tiniest hint of surprise.
What the hell is he doing here?
He looks from me to Cole, then back to me. He’s standing on the sidewalk just a few feet away, his girlfriend hanging on his arm. The same one he was with when I was staying with him. Well, at least he doesn’t go through women as often as he used to.
“I didn’t expect you’d still be in town,” he says, looking down his nose at me.
“Well, I have friends here who don’t mind helping me out, which is more than I can say for you.”
My father grits his teeth, straightening up. “Had you done something more with your life, maybe I’d have helped. But I can’t find it in me to help those who can’t help themselves.”
He looks from me to Cole again, mutters something, then he and his girlfriend start walking.
I hold my breath until I can no longer see him. I want to chase him down and scream in his face. Tell him how angry he makes me. How terrible of a human he is. If I thought it would work, I’d do it. But my words hold no meaning when it comes to him.
“Why is he such a douchebag?” My head falls back on my shoulders.
“Ignore him. He’s an asshole to everyone.”
“But he shouldn’t be an asshole to me. I am his flesh and blood. He literally made me.”
Cole nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry this is how it is.”
“Why is he even in town?” I ask. Cole sighs again, and I glance at him, frowning. “What do you know?”
He blinks a few times, then turns his attention to me.
“He has a place here.”
I nearly choke. “He has a place in Lynncastor? Still?”
Cole nods. “After he updated the house he fired me from, he sold it and bought a small condo. He comes here now and again for who knows what. Belittle people, probably.”
I grit my teeth, my anger reaching an all-time high. So not only did he refuse to let me stay with him, but he had an entire place here I could have used, but he forgot to mention that part.
My anger quickly morphs into something else.
Hurt.
I hate that I still allow him to make me feel this way.
I push it away, swallow, and focus on my ice cream—something that makes me happy and will never betray me.
Once we pull into the driveway, it’s late and I’m tired. Running into my dad really took a toll on me. It got to me more than it should have. There he is, taking a pleasant stroll with his girlfriend like they’re normal people. He runs into his son and insults me instead of being nice. Why couldn’t I have been born to a father who gives a shit about me? It shouldn’t be a request. Everyone deserves loving and supportive parents.
The air changes when we enter the house. It’s almost like I don’t know what to do. It’s strange being here knowing Chris won’t be. That it’s only me and Cole now.
I glance at Cole, who is looking at me.
“I’ll empty the dishwasher, then I’m going to bed,” I say as I move down the hall.
“I can handle the dishwasher.”
I turn into the kitchen and hear him behind me. “You bought ice cream.”
“You made dinner.”
“You make dinner every other night,” I retort.
“We’ll do it together then.”
I sigh and relent. We put the dishes away quickly with the both of us doing it.
“Are you tired?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Probably going to do some work. Maybe go for a swim.”
A swim sounds good.
Actually, what really sounds good is a wet and mostly naked Cole.
But I already said I was going to bed, so I don’t want to be weird and say I want to swim now too. Don’t want to be too needy or clingy. Cole isn’t my boyfriend. Not even close.
Curse my bedroom for being at the front of the house. If he’s going to swim, I could watch. Though I could sneak into Cole’s room and look out the window. I bet he wouldn’t even notice.
Bryson, that’s creepy.
Yeah, it totally is.
I rub the back of my neck. “Well, uh… good night.”
He nods. “Good night, Bryson.”
I head up to my room, strip to my underwear, and get into bed. I put the TV on, knowing I won’t go to sleep right away, but maybe watching something will bore me enough to shut my mind down.
I hate how much of a dick my father is.
I never thought of having kids myself. Never thought of being with someone long term enough to do that. I’ve spent so much time focusing on school and figuring out where to go in life. Talking to people is hard. I’m socially awkward at best. But I do know if I ever have kids, there is no way I’d treat them the way my father treats me. They won’t even know my father either. There is no way I’d allow him to damage them the way he’s damaged me. I wish being aware of how much he’s messed me up was enough of a cure. Like accepting it somehow fixes it. That I could just say “hey, your father is the reason you think you suck, so just don’t believe it because he’s an asshole.”
But it’s not that simple. It’s embedded in me. A part of me. His words live in the back of my head, making me doubt myself always. If I mess up on something, it’s him telling me I’m not good enough. Sometimes I’m doing nothing and feel totally fine, then there it is. His voice bitching about something. And the fucked up part is I don’t think this will ever go away.
My father is the villain in my story, tainting everything I love with his negativity. Whatever I like, he hates. Whatever I want to do, he thinks is wrong.
I’m a fucking failure in his eyes, and the longer I go through the life, the more I see what he sees. It’s the exact opposite of how it should be. Being away from him? It should make me better. And maybe things will be easier now that I have this job. But even though I’m excited, I can’t help being worried that I’m going to fuck this up too.
This is a big deal. The first job I’ve had out of college. This very well could be the thing that proves him wrong. And even though proving him wrong won’t make a difference, I need to do it for me. If I held this job for years and made it to the top of the ladder, it still wouldn’t be enough for him. Because I’m not some hot shot fancy lawyer with a degree from Harvard, as if that makes a difference. Shouldn’t he just be proud I’m not in jail or something? That I went to college at all?
And because I’m feeling bad for myself, it’s impossible to ignore Cole when he texts, telling me the pool is lonely without me.