Chapter 18
TIAGO
“So you’re calling me a shitty father, eh?”
“I’m saying that your son made his way to my street without even knowing where I was staying because you let Dad run his mouth like the fucking asshole he is,” I snapped back at Thierry. “This is not okay. You realize that, right?”
Thierry was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”
“Tell that old fucker to shut up, for one. Defend your son. Let him know that he’s not a fucking freak just because he’s going to go—”
“Might! He might go…” Thierry’s voice stammered to a halt. “He might.”
Bowing my head, I took a breath. Those were the words I’d repeated to myself over and over and over until my throat was raw. I was angry at Thierry, but I couldn’t deny him his fear over the struggles his son was going to have.
“Do you really want to let Mom and Dad treat Oliver the way they’ve treated me? Do you want Oliver to walk into a house one day and get screamed at for something he can’t help? Do you want him to feel as unwanted as I do?”
“It’s not the same,” he defended.
My laugh was so bitter it made the back of my throat ache. “Oh, I know. He’s not a shame child. I get that. But you can’t deny that Dad has taken perverse pleasure in making people feel really, really small.”
Thierry let out a slow breath. “Can I talk to him right now?”
Oliver was in Rohan’s room with his headphones on and the lights off. I didn’t think he’d appreciate having to deal with his dad after everything. I didn’t even know the full story.
He gave me the short version—Grandpa was an asshole, Dad said nothing, I stood up for myself, Grandpa shoved me out the front door and locked it behind me.
“He’s asleep,” I finally said. “And frankly, I think you, Anne, and everyone else should sit in your fucking shame.”
Thierry made a noise of protest. “Anne is pregnant, Tiago. This is stressing her out.”
“Okay, and your son is a teenager who was just given a life-changing diagnosis, and the moment he asked for support, he got tossed out on his ass. You think he’s not stressed? Or are you more worried about your replacement baby that has a good chance of having the same condition?”
“She doesn’t,” Thierry blurted, and then shut his jaw so hard I heard his teeth clack over the speaker.
“What the fuck does that mean?” But I knew what it meant. “Is that baby yours?”
“Of course she’s mine!”
“You know what I meant,” I snapped.
His silence answered that question for me.
“You are such a fucking dickhead. Why do you want your son to come home if you already have your new, perfect baby cooking?”
“Because I’m sorry, okay? I love Oliver, and I’m sorry, and Anne is beside herself. She’s been throwing up from the stress, and she’s threatened to fucking divorce me if I don’t stand up to Mom and Dad.”
Well. That was something. It was not what I expected. “You want him home so your wife doesn’t leave you?” Maybe that was a bit mean, but he needed some goddamn mean right then.
He didn’t answer that question. “Can I come by tomorrow?”
“I’ll ask Oliver. He’ll probably want to see his mom before he sees you,” I admitted.
“Okay.”
I didn’t expect him to give in so easily, so maybe I was a little wrong. Maybe he did miss and love his son.
“For the record,” Thierry said before I could hang up, “we didn’t have this baby because of Oliver’s diagnosis. I, uh…I had a thing. Two years ago. I can’t have more kids, but Anne felt like she wasn’t done. One of our good friends donated for us.”
Now I felt a little worse, but how the fuck was I meant to know any of that when Thierry told me nothing? When he’d been my parents’ lap dog for so long and had only existed in my life to do their bidding?
“We should talk later,” I told him.
“Yeah.” He sounded tired now and sad. And maybe that was going to be good for him. “Call me tomorrow. Let me know what Oliver wants.”
I hung up without any real goodbye and made my way back into the house. After my chat with Oliver, we all let Aravind’s aunties feed us, and then Oliver took his mug of masala chai to the room and put himself to bed.
I’d gotten a few minutes to say hello to Manisha again—and god, it was good to see her—before I was dragged outside by my phone call. Now it was over, and the house was a little dark, and I was only able to find my way back to the sliding door through the memory of using it so much this past week.
My chest ached for everything that was happening. For my nephew’s pain, which triggered my own, and for the loss of peace that Aravind and I had. That was maybe unfair because he seemed genuinely excited to have his family around, and I did want to be part of something that was kind and gentle.
But I also already missed being able to do whatever we wanted, wherever we wanted.
“Are you alright, beta?”
It was Manisha, and it took me a second to realize she was talking to me. I’d heard her use that word before with Ferris. It was obviously something full of affection, and it felt weird to deserve it.
“Ah, yeah. Just…family stuff.”
“I understand. Come sit. I can make you more tea,” she ordered.
I found a chair but waved my hand. “I don’t think I can do more caffeine.”
“I have chamomile. Now, don’t argue. It’ll be good. It’s healthy, and it’ll help you sleep.”
I smiled at her as I leaned my elbow on the table. My fatigue had settled deep in my bones, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed with Aravind, but I wasn’t even sure if we were doing that. Maybe I was about to be relegated to the couch.
“Where did Aravind go?”
I heard her click the kettle on, then a mug hit the counter. “He went with Soma and Ankita to the shops before they closed. They needed a couple of things, and I had a small list.”
Drumming my fingers on the table, I asked, “Do you want me and Aravind to take the sofa so you have some room?”
She laughed. “Don’t be silly. My house is next door. We needed something that would fit myself, Ferris, and Quinn. Plus, my husband and Logan will be coming down for the weekend.”
I had to assume Logan was Ferris’s brother. I didn’t know them, but I’d heard people talking about how little Ferris looked like his siblings. I knew that feeling, though for different reasons.
“Are you alright?” Manisha asked again. The mug hit the table, and I curled my fingers around it. It was too hot, but the pain was grounding.
“I’ve been better. My family’s awful, and it was fine when they were just taking it out on me, but Oliver’s so…so young. And it really sucks to know that he’s being shut out the same way I was.”
Manisha pulled a chair out and sat. “Because of your blindness?”
I shrugged and took a sip, letting the fragrant herbal brew soothe the back of my throat.
“Yeah. There’s other stuff too. I’m not my dad’s biological son, and he made sure I knew it every day.
Even before they told me the truth. I just didn’t think they’d take out their bullshit on a kid. ” I froze. “Sorry for swearing.”
“I have two jocks for sons and one who spent his college years in a fraternity before going into professional hockey. I don’t mind a little swearing,” she said with a laugh.
I smiled at her. “I’m, uh…I’m glad to see you. It was nice when you were around this season.”
She huffed. “You boys never know how to take care of yourselves. It’s a wonder you don’t all waste away.”
“We have nutritionists, you know.”
“Yes, but they are all idiots. Telling you to eat hard-boiled eggs plain and chicken with no spices. And no rice? What kind of diet is this? It’s like they want your brains to fail and your muscles to collapse in the middle of the game.”
“Well. I did play better when you were around,” I told her with a smile. “Too bad your chola boot can’t prevent knee injuries.”
“Yes.” Her voice went quiet. “That must have been very hard. When Ferris was hurt, he was very afraid he was going to lose his chance at playing on his team. I’m not sure he would have been able to cope with it, even with Quinn beside him.”
“I’ve played for a long time. Retiring is scary, but it’s also not the worst thing in the world.”
“What will you do after?” she asked.
My chest tightened. “Well…”
“He’s going to travel the world with me,” came the voice of my savior. I followed the sound of Aravind’s footsteps until he slid warm, sleepy arms around me. “I still need to figure out what I want to do.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “But for now, I think bed.”
“Do you want some help cleaning up?” I asked Manisha.
“I think you’ve done your part tonight, sweetheart,” she told me. As I stood, she did too, and then she was around the table and taking my hands, pulling me in to kiss my cheek. “Get some real rest. Tomorrow, it’ll feel easier.”
I wasn’t sure she was right, but being dismissed into my lover’s arms was all I wanted, so I took the offer to follow Aravind into the room and let him close the door tightly behind us.
I woke with a hand on my dick and lips on the back of my neck. I didn’t react for a moment. I went through my usual morning routine of blinking both eyes open, then closing the right one to see if I still had my small spots in the left where I could see.
There was light coming from the window, but the clear parts of my vision were nothing more than a hazy fog. I blinked, then blinked again. Sometimes I got some funk and sleep in my eyes, which scared me into thinking everything was getting ready to go.
But it didn’t clear up this time.
I swallowed back small pinpricks of panic and blinked a few more times and…oh. There. The strip of light by the window, and across the room a bright purple shirt hanging off the edge of a suitcase.
I breathed out and turned in Aravind’s arms, and his hand slipped further into my boxers, fingers grazing my hard, naked cock.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “I really want you.”
Last night, my hard-on died off when I thought for a moment that Aravind wasn’t coming back. Then when he did come back, he dropped a giant drama bomb into my lap, and all thoughts of sex faded into oblivion.