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I scoffed, thinking that after they kicked me to the curb, it would be a good six months before I was allowed to step back inside.
“Why don’t you just meet me at my place?”
“Okay. Archer?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want you to know, I don’t regret a thing.”
“Me either.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
preston
FROM THE SECOND I slid into the back seat of my parents’ car, the silence was deafening. Neither of them said a word or even looked my way as we made the short drive from Astor to their penthouse on Madison Avenue. I almost would’ve preferred for them to yell instead of filling the space with their icy disappointment, but I had a feeling that part would come soon enough.
I stared out the window, my mind replaying everything that had happened that morning, even though it was the last thing I wanted to think about. I didn’t want to remember the insults and ugly looks aimed my way. I especially didn’t want to think about the consequences Archer was dealing with right now, when all the two of us were guilty of was loving each other.
If I hadn’t kept so much of my life secret for so long, this wouldn’t be happening. Serena wouldn’t be caught in the middle of something that wasn’t her fault, and the only problem people would have with me and Archer was our age difference. Not what they all assumed because they’d been led to: that we were having some sort of sick affair under Serena’s nose.
My stomach twisted as the car stopped in front of my parents’ building, and I waited for them to exit before climbing out after them.
The ride up to the penthouse was the same, deathly quiet, until we reached their floor.
“Take a seat in the parlor,” my father said, just before the elevator doors opened and he walked out, heading straight for the house manager.“Let the staff know they can all be excused.”
To his credit, the man didn’t bat an eye, already used to the privacy my parents insisted upon.
More like they didn’t want anything remotely embarrassing to come out about them, which was why they waited until everyone had left before laying in on me.
The parlor was pure white—the couch, the armchairs, the curtains, the rug. It made you almost scared to sit for fear of leaving a mark, which was why I’d never ventured in there much when I lived with them.
But marring their precious furniture was the last thing I was worried about at that moment, so I took a seat on the couch and waited for their lecture. I still wasn’t sure how I would respond, leaving it up to what felt right in the moment. I knew I didn’t want to hide anymore, that I needed to tell them everything, but what form that would take…who knew?
As the last of the staff departed, my father strolled into the parlor, a crystal tumbler half-full of amber liquid in his hand. Considering that it was still morning, his drinking was the only indication so far that something was bothering him.
He stayed standing by the fireplace while my mother took a seat in one of the armchairs, and after taking a sip from his glass, he cocked a bushy eyebrow at me.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
A lot, actually. But I knew my father enough to know he already had a path set for this conversation. Best to just give a general apology and let him kick things off.
“I’m sorry.” There. That could encompass all my perceived sins.
He grunted and stared down at me, all that judgment weighing heavily on my shoulders.
“I’d like to hear what exactly you’re sorry for, Preston. For bringing shame to our family? For lying? Cheating? Disregarding your future for a moment of pleasure? Please explain to your mother and me what’s happening in that thick head of yours.”
I forced myself to breathe through my irritation as my temper began to rise.
“I apologize for hiding who I truly am for so long. That’s one of the few things I’m sorry for.”
“And who is that? Enlighten us.”
