“Free? By turning into him? You really don’t get it.”
“I’m sorry.” Darien’s voice was barely a whisper, but it held weight. He stepped closer, hands raised like he was approaching a wounded animal. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I wanted you to be happy, Baran. That’s all I wanted. I thought it would be the best Christmas present for you.”
Baran closed his eyes, his throat tightening. He hated how sincere Darien sounded, how much he wanted to believe him. But the anger was still there, raw and simmering just beneath the surface.
Darien reached out, hesitantly, and then dropped his hand. “Look, I get it. You’re not ready. But come home. Not…not to me. Just to the house. You can have your own space. No pressure, no strings. Just somewhere better than this,” he said, gesturing to the peeling wallpaper and sagging mattress.
Baran crossed his arms, staring hard at the stained carpet. He wanted to tell Darien to leave, to never come back, but the offer lingered in the air like a lifeline he wasn’t ready to grab.
“I’ll think about it,” he muttered finally, not looking up.
“I can’t leave you here.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not safe. I want you to come home. Miss Charlotte is worried about you. Come home for her, if not for me.”
His eyes welled up, and tears spilled down his cheeks. He longed to go back to the comfort of home with Daddy Darien and Miss Charlotte. He was upset with himself for running away and not confronting what had happened and why. He believed Daddy Darien meant to make his life easier, but he wasn’t fully aware of his relationship with his father. It had never been good.
Daddy Darien scooped Baran into his arms, holding his head against his chest. “Daddies make mistakes too.”
Baran nodded, knowing very well Daddy Darien was right. Baran wasn’t perfect, and expecting Daddy Darien to be perfect was unrealistic.
“I want to go home,” Baran whispered.
“Where are your things?”
Baran pointed to the big bag with his tuxedo in it. “That’s all I have.”
Daddy Darien made a phone call for a driver to pick them up. Once they were notified the car was parked out front, Baran checked out of the hotel.
Baran shuffled his feet on the cobblestones, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans as he trailed alongside Darien. The city lights reflected off the damp pavement, casting an amber glow that flickered in and out of his peripheral vision. He wasn’t sure how Darien had talked him into leaving the hotel—or talking to him at all.
“You were brilliant tonight,” Darien said.
“Brilliant? I barely said a word to half the people there.”
“And yet, every one of them left singing your praises and leaving checks. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Baran. Your work spoke louder than you ever could.”
They got inside the car and continued talking.
Baran’s lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he shook his head. “I don’t know why you bothered looking for me. It’s not like—”
“I bothered,” Daddy Darien interrupted gently, “because I love you. Because I know what you’re capable of, even if you don’t. And because you deserve someone to remind you of that, no matter how much you try to push them away.”
Baran’s breath hitched. He felt the weight of Daddy Darien’s words settle on his chest, not heavy in a crushing way, but heavy like something sturdy, something real. “You love me,” he murmured, almost disbelieving.
“I do,” Daddy Darien said simply. “And I want the best for you. You’re worth it, even if you don’t see it yet.”
They sat in silence the rest of the way, side by side in the back of the car, Baran stealing glances at Daddy Darien every now and then, unsure of what to say—or feel. He wasn’t used to this, to someone caring this much. It was unsettling, but also…comforting.
When they reached home, the door opened before they got out of the car. Miss Charlotte stood there, her silver hair tied in a neat bun and her shawl draped over her shoulders. Her face lit up as soon as she saw them.
“There you are!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and scolding. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten where home was.”
Daddy Darien laughed softly, stepping aside to let Baran enter first.
Miss Charlotte’s sharp eyes turned to Baran, who stiffened under her gaze. But instead of the reproach he expected, her expression softened. “You must be exhausted, my boy. Come, sit down. I’ll make you both some hot chocolate.”
