25. Christian #2
I nod once, and we’re locked in a staredown that crackles with twenty-three years of resentment and unspoken shit we’ve both buried too deep. Now that he’s here, sitting on my couch, I’m at a loss, because how the hell do you start unpacking two decades of emotional baggage?
“The first thing we’re gonna discuss is Piper.
We’re going to talk about what you did to her and why the hell you think you had any right to put your hands on a woman.
Because I know damn well I never taught you that.
” I lean forward, darkness edging into my tone as the image of that bruise on her perfect skin flashes behind my eyes.
“And as much as your mom failed to teach you basic human respect, don’t you dare sit there and tell me she’d be proud of the man you were in that moment. ”
“Did you see my face?” Travis spits back. “Mom was ready to call the fucking police.”
“But you couldn’t let her, could you? Because then you’d have to explain why a woman half your size felt the need to defend herself against your hands.”
He shifts forward, suddenly finding the floor real interesting, while the silence stretches like a rubber band pulled too tight.
“I was angry. That’s all it was.”
“That’s not a fucking excuse.” My grip tightens on the armrest until it creaks beneath my fingers. “There’s never an excuse for what you did. Not anger, not hurt feelings or jealousy, not anything.”
“Does that work both ways?” he asks, and there’s a challenge in his eyes when they meet mine. “Because Piper’s fist sure as hell flew.”
“Do I condone it? No.” The truth grinds out between my teeth. “But you deserved worse than what you got, and you’re lucky I wasn’t there to see it happen.”
“Why? Because you would’ve played the hero? Give me a fucking break.”
This arrogant bastard wearing my son’s face has the audacity to laugh like this is all some big joke. My fingers curl into fists against my thighs, itching to remind him exactly whose house he’s in and whose blood runs in his veins.
“I got mad because she was laying into Mom. I slapped her around and got my ass handed to me. My mistake. It won’t happen again.”
He doesn’t care one goddamn bit.
It’s the most hollow, pathetic excuse I’ve ever heard, and it confirms what I already feared, that he’d do it again. If he thought he could get away with it, if there weren’t bruises to wear as proof, he’d absolutely do it again.
“You know what, Travis? I tried to raise you right in the small window I actually had. I tried to teach you manners, respect, and what it means to be a man.” I rake a hand through my hair as frustration burns in my chest. “But you don’t give a single fuck about any of it.
Your mom never showed you discipline, never gave you boundaries, and now look at what you’ve become. ”
“Don’t you dare talk about her. You knew her for five minutes while you were making me, then left her like she was nothing but a cheap whore.”
“What did you expect me to do? Marry a woman I barely knew just to make your grandparents happy?”
“Yes.”
“Bullshit.” My laugh comes out harsh. “You might be acting like an asshole, but you’re not fucking stupid, so quit playing dumb. Can you imagine the nightmare our lives would’ve been, all of us trapped in that mess?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down an inch. “You had a responsibility to her and to me.”
“To you, yeah, and I’ve always been here fighting to be your father, even when your mom and her parents tried to shut me out at every turn.
But you don’t have to marry someone you’re not in love with to show up for the kid you created.
” I take a breath, trying to steady myself, but this truth has been sitting heavy in my chest for years.
“I wasn’t willing to be bullied by those people, Travis.
I was a kid, too, a scared kid trying to figure out how to be a father when I was barely a man, and I did the best I could with what I had. ”
“Stop. Just stop,” he snaps, his voice cracking as he explodes to his feet.
I mirror him, rising to meet his fury, and I can see he’s right on the edge as he trembles with rage.
“You don’t get to talk about them,” he growls, pointing a finger toward me.
“The people who raised me were my real family. You’re just—” He breaks off, looking at me like I’m nothing but a name on a birth certificate.
“You’re just the guy who doesn’t know when to take a fucking hint. ”
He’s staring at me like I’m poison, and it kills me because, deep down, I know I don’t deserve this level of hatred. Well, I didn’t until Piper, but I never deserved it for the version of me he’s built in his head, the one he’s already sentenced, judged, and buried.
“I don’t need you. I never have.” His arms stretch wide as he looks around the room. “Do you think I care about any of this?”
And fuck—that one lands deeper than I want to admit.
The truth is, it’s not even his words that break me, maybe because I’ve been bracing for this moment for years.
What guts me is the idea of what we were supposed to be—father and son, working this land side by side, him carrying on the Crawford name with pride instead of wearing it like a burden.
It’s all those years I spent believing we could still salvage something, that maybe if I just tried harder, loved deeper, gave more, we could build something real.
But if I’m honest, there’s nothing left but years of resentment and a connection I’ve been forcing, while he’s done everything he can to cut himself loose from me, from this place, and from the legacy I always hoped would mean something to him.
And maybe I finally have to let him go.
“Maybe you don’t give a damn about any of this, Travis, and that’s fine. I’ve given up trying to make you care. But for what it’s worth, I’ve always put you first, even when you made it clear you didn’t want me in your life.”
I jam my hands deep into my pockets, fingers balled into fists so tight I can feel my nails digging into my palms.
“I tried to build something with you, and I held on to this stupid, stubborn hope that maybe there was some small spark of me in you, but there isn’t, is there?
And that’s the real fucking tragedy because you’re my only son, and yet you feel like a complete stranger.
” My voice cracks, and I don’t bother hiding it now.
“Even when you were a little boy, I felt that distance. I remember watching you walk around this farm, maybe four or five years old, and you never smiled. Not once. You were never happy here, never happy with me. Back then, I blamed your mother for it, convinced myself she’d poisoned you against this place, against me, and maybe that’s true, but you’ve got your own mind now.
You know damn well I’ve always wanted to be your dad, and you?
Well, you slammed the door in my face every single time I reached for you. ”
I meet his eyes, letting him see everything I’ve kept locked away over the years.
“You’ve got no idea how that’s killed me over the years, watching you build walls I couldn’t climb.
But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep making excuses for you.
I can’t keep trying to explain away every shitty thing you’ve done just because I want to believe you’re better.
This… this is just who you are, and this right here is the mess we’re left with. ”
I wait, watching him stare at everything in the room except my face, until finally he breaks the silence and speaks.
“Do you know what my grandparents forced my mom to do after she had me?” I stare at him blankly. “They made her get surgery so she could never have another kid. She embarrassed them by getting pregnant with your bastard child, and they punished her for it.”
“And yet you worship these people.”
“Because despite all that, they were there for us. They guided me. They supported Mom and gave us stability—something you never did. But she still suffered because of you .”
“Jesus Christ, listen to yourself.” I drag a hand through my hair, feeling every one of my forty-one years weighing on my shoulders.
“You hate me for what happened to Meredith, but the people who mutilated her? Who took away her ability to ever choose again—those are the ones you’d die defending?
” He stares at me, his jaw tight, but I’m not finished.
Not even close. “You’ve been brought up in the most manipulative, narcissistic environment I’ve ever known, and you don’t even see it.
You’re so deep in it, you’ve mistaken control for love.
You’re lost, Travis, or maybe you’re not lost at all.
Maybe this is exactly who they made you to be, and you’ll never break free.
Either way, it breaks my fucking heart that I couldn’t save you from them.
But nobody wins against the Beaufords, and somewhere deep down, you know that’s true. ”
“And what would you have done, Dad? Teach me how to fix fences and shovel shit. Brought me up to run this farm just like you? No ambition, no dreams—just legacy bullshit you’ve tried cramming down my throat since I was a kid?” His lip curls with disgust. “No thanks. I’d never choose this life.”
He turns and heads for the front door, and the sound of his boots on the floor feels like nails in a coffin, turning my stomach to lead.
You’re not supposed to give up on your kids. I know that. But Christ, what the hell am I supposed to do here?
This is fucked.
I’m fucked.
Maybe it’s because I’ve got nothing left to lose that I throw out the words I’ve been holding inside for months.
But if he walks out that door and I never see his face again, at least I’ll know I didn’t hide behind a lie.
Because whatever else I am, I’m not a coward, and despite everything he’s done, hurting him was never what I wanted.