54. Chapter Fifty-Four
“I can’t fucking believe it.”
Those words echo in my head for a long time.
Long after Chris leaves the room.
Long after Cole chases after him.
I want to disappear. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
How the hell did this happen?
I shake out of it when I hear something break downstairs. I jump up, grab some pants, and run down to see what’s going on. I’d been frozen in place the entire time, unable to process… well, anything.
Chris and Cole are in the living room, and there’s a decent sized hole in the wall that looks like it was from a fist.
“You!” Chris barks, eyes full of rage. He moves toward me, but Cole gets in the way, shoving him back.
He points a finger in his face. “You are not taking this out on him. This isn’t his fault.”
“You’re right. It’s yours!” Chris bellows, shoving his father back. Cole stumbles a few steps.
“Chris!” I yell, moving forward. Cole holds his arm out to stop me, and I do.
“Don’t fucking talk to me!” Chris shouts at me. “You’re both fucked up!” He looks at his father, shaking his head. “You’re fucking disgusting. Sleeping with someone half your age. And you!” He looks back at me, scoffing. “How dare you?”
“Don’t act like you’re fucking perfect!” I scream. His eyes widen. “What’s wrong, Chris? Didn’t expect me to argue back? Didn’t expect me to stick up for myself? You’ve been nothing but a dick since I got here. I’m tired of keeping my mouth shut.”
“Because I didn’t want you here in the first place! Don’t you get it?” He takes a step closer to me, throwing his arms up. “You’ve taken his attention from me ever since we were kids, and now? Fucking now?!” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. The anger coming off him isn’t only seen, but I can feel it. Like poison on my tongue.
We knew this would end in disaster.
That it would all blow up.
Kaboom.
“Christopher, that is not true,” Cole says. “You are my son. I love you.”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t enough! And then you go and cheat on mom and—”
“Whoa!” Cole barks, holding his hands up. “I did not cheat on your mother.”
Chris huffs out a laugh. “So you’re going to lie about it now? Typical. Fucking typical. Why would I expect you to be honest with me? You’ve been lying to me for—” He looks at me, making a disgusted sound.
“I’m not lying,” Cole says more calmly than I ever could.. “Who told you I cheated on her? I know she didn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Chris mutters, frowning and turning away from us.
“Hold on…” Cole blinks a few times. I think he gets it now. He realizes this is it. He’s put all the pieces together. “Is this why you’ve been mad at me? You think I cheated on your mother? Are you fucking crazy, Christopher? I would never do that to her. To anyone.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Chris repeats. His hands are on his hips, and he’s panting like he ran a marathon.
I’m certain the hole in the wall was from him. The smashed picture not too far away probably is too.
“Yes, it does!” Cole shouts. “Of course it does. You’re my son!”
Chris lets his head fall back and laughs. He laughs. Then he goes quiet for a long moment before turning his hateful gaze on his father.
“Nah. You can consider yourself childless, because after this?” He gestures between me and Cole. “I’m fucking done.”
Cole staggers back, leaning against the wall. Chris leaves the house. I stand there, unable to move. To believe what the hell just happened. The day was going so great. So perfectly. My birthday, of all days. Who do I go after? Do I go after either of them? Do I leave them alone? Do I just… leave?
“Cole—”
“Don’t,” he barks at me. He shakes his head and walks away.
My chest tightens and I can’t breathe all over again. My whole body grows heavy, and I sink into the chair before my legs give out. I close my eyes, fighting back tears as I force myself to breathe. It’s so hard, my chest is so fucking tight.
This is it.
This is the moment I was worried about. And how funny that it was only shortly after I thought he was breaking up with me in the first place. It was a sign. My gut telling me it knew what was to come. It was trying to prepare me for the pain that will no doubt be my undoing.
Maybe it’s better this way. Better if we aren’t together. This way he won’t have to question his loyalty to his son, and I won’t have to feel like the world’s worst best friend.
Though, I’m not sure I hold that title anymore.
I go upstairs to my room, shove as much of my stuff as I can into my suitcase, all the while fighting tears. I grab my laptop bag, make sure my computer and tablet are in there, my phone charger—shit my phone. It’s in Cole’s room.
Damnit.
I throw a shirt on, get my sneakers, and carry all my stuff to the top of the stairs. Then I walk into Cole’s room without knocking.
“Just getting my phone,” I mutter, barely sparing him a glance. All I can see is that he’s sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard. I grab my cell phone. Turn and leave. I stop in the doorway, my hand tightening on my cell. There are a million things I want to say to Cole, but nothing will make a difference.
So I keep walking.
We knew this would happen. Knew it was only a matter of time. We said it. Talked about it. The only thing we didn’t do is prepare.
I grab all my stuff, head downstairs, grab my keys, and leave. The entire drive, I feel like a dick for driving this car. But it was the quickest and easiest way to get away from the house. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Cole bought the car. Got it all set up in my name. I can’t just leave it there and let it be a waste.
I drive to the park and sit in the lot. It’s nearly ten at night. Mila is probably sleeping, but I don’t know who else to call. I guess the only other option is Mark. I am not running to Tomas.
I find Mark’s contact and press the call button.
“Bryson, what’s up?” he says cheerily. The noise in the background tells me he’s out, and I feel bad for being a bother.
“You home?” I force myself to ask, though all I want to do is hang up and act like I didn’t mean to call.
“Nah, I’m at a party. What’s going on?”
“I, uh… I need somewhere to stay tonight.”
There’s a bunch of yelling in the background. Mark laughs, but then says, “Oh, okay. Yeah. You can stay at our place. Mila is home.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
When we hang up, I call Mila, happy to hear she doesn’t sound like she’s sleeping. I should have risked calling her first, but I guess it doesn’t matter now. All I want to do is find a place to sleep. Sleep will make me forget everything that’s just happened.
“Hey, Bryson. Everything okay?”
“No, not really. Mark said I could go by. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Any time. You know that.”
“Thanks. I’ll be there soon.”
I end the call, sit in the lot for another ten minutes, then head to their house.