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“Shut up! This matches my outfit.”
“Look at your IQ,” Isla teases, so I stick my tongue out at her, making the girls erupt in giggles.
“The bag was Callie’s idea,” Zan says.
“Thank you, sweet girl.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, beaming at me with pride.
“I’m spanking all your asses with this beauty,” I tell them, to their answering laughter.
“Oh, Auntie Willa,” Sadie says dramatically. “Language.”
“Sorry, Sadie,” I say, pretending to be distraught by my behavior.
“Here you go,” Damian says, handing me an envelope.
Inside is a printed itinerary for two weeks in July. In motherfucking France to see the Chateau.
“Damian,” I whisper. “This is too much.”
“It’s not,” he says, dismissively. “You’ll get a private tour of the grounds. I tried for an overnight stay, but they wouldn’t budge. Still, you’ll have all day with a guide.”
“Oh my god.”
“It’s after the classes are finished for the year and any potential playoffs,” Isla adds.
“You knew?”
“Of course,” she says. “This family is the worst at keeping secrets from each other.”
“You guys are the best fucking family, ever,” I say, teary-eyed. “I take it back, Cillian. Twenty-five feels a lot different than twenty-four.”
23
Damian
The Coles are much like Fig’s family. Accepting, loving, close. Spending Willa’s birthday with them was better than I could have expected. They welcomed me in as if there wasn’t another option, even after Willa told them she was dating us both. She’d tried to convince me that her parents would be supportive Admittedly, I didn’t believe her. I’ve seen her dad on television enough to know that he’s stoic and stern. Evidently that’s reserved for his hockey life, he’s far different with his family. He took a genuine interest in me, and not once did I feel like it was an inquisition. Instead, I found myself welcomed into their family time. It was nice to be around a family that knows everything about one another. There isn’t a weight of secrets pushing you down as soon as you walk in the room. Not like with my family, where you are constantly alert of what can and cannot be said in certain company. The Coles are open and affectionate and their love for each other is palpable. They’re trusting.
I’ve never wanted that type of family more than I did walking out their front door that night. I didn’t want to leave it behind.
No longer am I stepping away from physical connection, instead I’m running headfirst into it. If it looks like it did that night, that is. I crave it, I’ll fight for it.
Yet that whispering voice in my mind says I’m not worthy of it. That I never have been and that’s why I never received it. Because I’m undeserving, I haven’t earned it. And I never can, because I don’t know how. What do I have to offer except money?
As a rational person, I know I can give more than that. Childhood trauma isn’t easy to ignore, however. The cult I grew up in isn’t a religious one, or sexual one. My family’s cult, the one so many wealthy elitists belong too, is money, power, and perception. It still requires deconstruction to leave it all behind. And that is something I fear I’ll struggle with for the duration of my life. Even paying off Alexander’s father gave me an evil thrill. Knowing I had something he wanted so badly that he would give up his own flesh and blood for it. I didn’t offer the money because I wanted to hold that over his head, I did it for Callie. But it was still thrilling. When I should have been disgusted.
No matter how grounded I feel with both Alexander and Willa, the insecurity is always there playing havoc inside my head. Especially since I feel the distance between him and me lately.
He’s so busy, which I understand. But I think he’s dragging his feet telling Callie about us. Specifically, his relationship with me. I don’t know how not to be insecure about that. If I wasn’t in the picture, he could be having a normal relationship with Willa as his girlfriend. Maybe that’s what he needs now that he’s raising Callie. A relationship that doesn’t cause waves in his career or with his kid sister who was raised in a very conservative way.
I’m the thing standing in the way of that. Yes, his bisexuality is too, but he loves Willa enough to waylay that part of him. Of that I’m certain, even if he professes his unwillingness to compromise. The question is does he love me enough to take a chance? Or do I love him enough to not let him risk everything.
These are the questions that circle my brain whenever I’m idle. Instead of falling into it too often, I’ve thrown myself into my dissertation and am now further along than I anticipated being. It’s not a bad problem to have, despite the circumstances that led me here.
Alexander has a home game tonight, and I’m meeting Willa and Callie there. I haven’t seen much of either of them. Callie still looks at me with a glint of hero worship. From Willa I get longing, something I share. If it were up to me, I’d move them all into my house and we’d spend every night together.
As a fucking family. My family.
