He shrugs. “I didn’t have much of a choice. I was twelve or thirteen and Jay had custody of me, so wherever he went, I followed. But over the years, Amsterdam grew on me, and it became my shelter.”
"Did you feel like you needed that shelter?"
That’s when I feel the rough scrape of his bandage against my skin as he tightens his grip around my hand.
And despite the chorus of angels on my shoulder telling me not to do it, my long-lost pal Luci whispers in my ear that I should.
So I do.
I turn my hand over, letting it mold to the shape of Tom’s palm. He holds it like I'm a long lost friend.
“Soon after moving to Amsterdam, Jay and his girlfriend... Emily, had a baby, my niece, Joan. Life was hectic. We were constantly on the road, crossing Europe for shows, while Emily was home alone with Joan, struggling. On the rare days we were back, Emily and Jay fought. A lot. I’d escape to my room, put on my headphones, and play with Joan.
I remember one night when their arguing got so bad that I took Joan upstairs and taught her to walk. That was pretty cool. She’s my best friend now."
He grins. Then his face tightens.
“I was fourteen when we finished our second European tour and Jay decided we should celebrate. He rented a villa in Germany, somewhere deep in the forest.”
Tom’s face scrunches.
“It was autumn. Leaves everywhere on the icy ground. I can still hear them crunch.”
The way he forces out those last words puts me on high alert. I study his face. He looks like he’s slipping into a trance, eyes distant. Something crucial is happening inside his mind.
“What happened at the villa?” I ask.
His fingers drum against his knee. A second passes. Another.
“I have a daughter. Her name is Evelyn, Effy. She’s the reason I came to Arcadia. I want to work on myself so I can become the father she needs”
I blink twice. Didn’t see that one coming. It's surprising, sure, but I can roll with this.
"Ahh, so you have a little girl? How old?"
"She’s nineteen."
Wait, what? My breath stops as I do the math. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I know I’m failing. He sees it.
“You’re judging me,” he gives me a sharp look and pulls his hand away.
“No, I'm not judging you. It’s just.. I didn’t expect that.”
“Yeah, I know, I was fourteen. It happened that weekend at the villa. We partied, everyone was drunk except me—Jay never let me drink. I went outside for some fresh air and sat alone in the garden when Emily found me. We talked for hours. I was about to go to bed when she kissed me. And things… escalated. Fast.”
He lets out a short, cynical laugh.
“The next day she called it a mistake. Told me I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone, and I didn’t. I swore to myself I would never talk about it.
His lips part like he’s about to say more, but before he can, the roar of two Sea-Doos on the horizon pulls his attention away. I bring him back.
“Did Jay find out?”
Tom lets out a bitter laugh, rolling his eyes.“Oh, Jay found out.”
His hands are trembling.
“She came clean to Jay and said I had to be the father. He lost it completely. I ended up in the hospital. Broken ribs, broken jaw, bruises everywhere.”
