Cal’s brows drew together. “Don’t twist this. I do want you there. I thought maybe this could be a good way for us to reconnect and…you know, we could be closer. A fresh start and all that.”
Something inside Slater snapped.
“A fresh start?” he echoed, incredulous. “Do you have any idea how many times you've floated that idea around over the years? It’s all bullshit, man. Like when I was ten and you missed my championship game because you were in Miami with some reporter? Or when I was twelve and the entire soccer team asked me why my dad was on the cover of a magazine with a woman who wasn’t my mother?”
Cal stiffened. “That was a long time ago.”
“Yeah,” Slater shot back, his heart racing. “It was my entire childhood. Hell, it’s been my entire life!”
Silence rang between them for only a moment.
“I hated it,” he continued, his voice low but shaking with years of suppressed resentment. “I hated walking into school and hearing your name. I hated coaches assuming I was going to be just like you. I hated baseball because it felt like you’d already taken all the oxygen out of the damn sport.”
Cal’s expression hardened defensively. “You never told me that.”
“What difference would it have made? Besides, you were never around long enough to hear it.”
That one landed. Cal’s mouth opened, then closed again. “I was building a career,” he said finally, stubbornly. “I was providing for the family.”
“You were chasing every woman who smiled at you,” Slater snapped. “And every time Mom cried, you told her it came with the territory.”
Cal’s jaw flexed. “Your mother and I had our issues. That was between us.”
“No,” Slater said, stepping closer now, anger bleeding through the calm. “It was between all of us. You think I don’t remember the fights? The slammed doors? The nights she sat at the kitchen table pretending she wasn’t waiting for you to come home?”
Cal looked away for the first time. “I made some mistakes, okay? I know I’m not perfect,” he muttered.
“No,” Slater agreed quietly. “You’re not.”
“And your mother…”
“Is gone,” Slater said flatly. “You destroyed her life, and now you want to be celebrated. How twisted is that?”
A long pause stretched between them. There were thousands of things he wanted to say—points he wanted to make—but some of the fight just went out of him. Nothing he said was going to change the past, and his father wasn’t someone he wanted in his future.
Then Cal straightened, the familiar confidence sliding back over his features like armor. “Look, I get that you’re holding onto old grudges. But this is important. It’s my career, my legacy. I’m going to be part of major league history. I’d like my son to be there. That’s not unreasonable.”
Slater stared at him. “You still don’t get it,” he said softly.
“Get what?”
“I never wanted to be part of your legacy. I was just a kid who would have liked to have his dad around.” Another mirthless laugh. “And I’ll never want to be a prop to help you perpetuate an image you don’t deserve.”
That one cut deeper than anything he’d said, and he saw it in the tight pull of Cal’s mouth. For a moment, something raw flickered there—hurt, maybe, or regret— but it vanished almost immediately.
Cal grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, shrugging it on with brisk efficiency. “Fine,” he said, tone going professional. “I thought we could have an actual conversation. I didn’t come here to fight.” He moved toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back.
Slater silently prayed that this was goodbye.
“Just think about it,” he added. “I’ll be staying a few more days. You’ve got a nice little place here. I’m sure your trust fund helped, but I can see why you and your friends bought it.”
It was as close to a compliment as he was ever going to get, but it meant nothing.
“Maybe we can grab dinner together and you can introduce me to them. I’d love to see how everyone’s doing. I’ll bet they’d all agree that you should come to the ceremony. Heck, bring them along! We’ll make it a party!”
The same oblivious confidence. The same assumption that Slater would eventually fall in line.
Then he walked out and the door clicked shut behind him. And he was left alone in the office, staring at the empty space where his father had stood, the echo of old anger settling heavily in his chest.
