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“She holds the cards because you aren’t being honest with her.”
“What is there to be honest about? I want exactly what she wants. Sex. That’s all.”
Frank shakes his head. “You’re fucked, man, if you don’t even realize what you really want.”
“Since you think you have it all figured out, why don’t you tell me? What do I want?”
“Did you apologize for breaking her heart? Did you tell her you’re still in love with her? That you’re miserable without her? That you want her back?”
I breathe in and out, trying to control my anger. Or my sadness. It all seems to be one and the same lately.
Frank places his arm on my shoulder. “Exactly. You need a therapist, Cash. Not me. Not Grace. And for the record, your family just wants you to be happy. Even Cat realized she fucked up. Figure your shit out, decide if you want to make it work, and stop blaming everyone else for your inability to be happy.” He pulls me close and hugs me tight and for once I let him.
I know he means well, I know he thinks he’s right, but I don’t need a therapist. I need my company back. I need to forget Grace existed…I need…a goddamn time machine.
“You know it’s strange, no matter how many times I looked down into the whiskey glass, I never quite got the answers I was looking for,” a man says beside me. I stiffen as I recognize the voice. It’s one I haven’t heard in nearly a decade, but one that sounds so similar to my brother’s that even if I didn’t remember it, I’d know it was him.
My cheeks inflate as I suck in a breath and stare down at my drink, refusing to meet his steady gaze.
“Everyone always said you were like your grandfather, but from what I’ve seen lately, you have an awful lot of me in you.”
I spin on him, dropping my whiskey glass, and hiss in my father’s direction. “I’m nothing like you.Nothing.”
He quirks an amused brow. It’s the first time I’ve seen my father in over a decade. I don’t want to notice how his hair is now salt and peppered, and I wonder if I’m looking into my own future. His skin is weathered from the drinking, but he’s not unattractive. He carries himself as if he still has money, which I know he does because my grandparents write him a check every month, but he smells of cigar smoke and greed, and his whiskey-colored eyes are yellowed through years of addiction.
He holds up his hand and drops a finger every time he makes a point. “You lost the woman you love and your company at the same time, your family has disappeared on you, you’re drinking on a weekday to forget all that you’ve lost, and you hate who you see when you look in the mirror.”
My nostrils flare but I ignore him. Denying his statements would be a lie, but I’d rather slit my wrist with this glass than admit any similarities to the man before me.
“What did you do to my company, Cassius?” he asks coolly now, realizing he’s not getting the rise he was seeking.
I laugh at his absurd assertion. “Your company? That’s rich.”
His face distorts and he moves closer to me, his putrid breath hitting me hard. “You always were a cunt. It’s how you came into this world. You stole everything from me, and I won’t let you steal my company and destroy it like you’ve destroyed everything else.”
I lean back in my chair, amused by his outburst. A therapist would have a field day with the humor I find in my father calling me a cunt.
“You think this is funny?” he asks, getting angrier and louder by the minute. People at the bar turn to look, and I just shrug my shoulders.
“I tried to protect you. For years, we all kept the truth from you. And this is how you repay me? You steal my company, flush it down the toilet, and mock me?”
I roll my eyes at his hysterics. “This really is beneath you,Dad.” He grimaces at the term. He hasn’t been a father in decades. Carter and Cat were more parents to me than the man sitting across from me, and they were practically still in diapers themselves when I was born.
“I’ve never done anything to you. And I want nothing to do with you or your truths.” Done with the embarrassment that is my father, I stand and put a twenty on the bar to pay for my drink. The bartender nods a goodbye, and I turn to leave.
“Never done anything to me…” his voice taunts at my departure. “How about kill the love of my life? That’s not enough to warrant my hatred?”
My feet stop moving and I feel my heart seize.
“Right. No one told you why your mom never got the treatment, I see.” I feel him move closer, and for all the strength in me I cannot get my feet to press forward. “You were an oopsie,” he says sarcastically, his eyes pinching in exaggeration. “We never meant to have another child. Cat and Carter weremorethan enough. But your mom, God, that woman was everything, and when she found out she had cancer and was pregnant the same day, she didn’t listen to my pleas. I begged her to scrape you from her body. I pleaded with her to inject whatever poisonous treatments they had. But no…’the baby,’ she cried…” He grabs at my shoulder and pulls me around to face him. I don’t react. I can’t. I’m stuck in his words, heavy in the molasses of his accusations, and choking on the vitriol he’s spewing. His hand flies to my chest, and he pokes at me as he continues, “You. Cost. Me. My. Wife. Youkilledyour mother. How’s that for the truth?”
There is no life in his eyes, no humanity at all. And I’m afraid if I look too closely, I’ll see my future.
When I don’t react, he shakes his head. “Worthless little cunt. You don’t have the backbone to keep this company.”
He storms out the door, and I’m left standing there, lost to his words. I don’t want to sink into them though. I’ll easily drown. Before I allow them to infect me any further, I admit the truth to myself. There is only one person I need right now. Only one person who could make me forget everything that just happened. I finally give in and text her.
“Please, Grace, I need you.”
