Page 21 of Who We Love


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“To talk some sense into you.” My mother lets out a frustrated sigh as she shoots daggers at Thea. “The Hudsons are worried our plans are taking longer than anticipated.”

“Merge with them, Father. You don’t need me for that. We’re in a different era. Marrying someone for a business is simply stupid.”

“Tristan, it’s time for you to grow up.” My mother’s icy voice is directed at me, but her eyes stare at Thea.

I step in front of Thea, taking her hand.

“First, you moved to that place where wannabes live, thinking they’re better than us. But they have no pedigree. Now you’re here among… hippies? Your attitude exhausts me. You went out, opened those bars, but now it is time to come home and have a real job.”

I love my mother. She sounds like a snobbish bitch, but most of the time, when I see her, I remember the woman who raised me. The one who kissed my scrapes when I fell, clapped and celebrated every milestone I reached. The same woman who taught me the simplest tasks and how to laugh. We laughed so much. Until I turned ten and I had to grow up, become a man. Then I was my father’s responsibility. She changed too. Nothing was ever the same between us.

“He’s a successful man.” Thea steps out of my protection and extends her hand. “Thea Dennis.”

Mother stares at her extended hand. “I see.” She flips her attention toward me, ignoring Thea.

“Mother,” I warn her, pulling Thea to me, kissing her creamy skin. “I’d appreciate it if you were nice to my girlfriend.” Then I glance at them both. “Mother, Father, meet Agatha Dennis. My girlfriend. Thea, meet Viviane and Ferdinand Cooperson. My parents.”

A bright shade of red colors Ferdinand Cooperson’s face.

Mom barely glances at her, her eyes set on me with a menacing warning. “You can’t possibly think that this is all right, Tristan. Look at her. She looks like you dragged her out of a strip club.”

“Be careful with what you say, Mother,” I growl as the distaste in her words makes Thea cringe.

My father growls back at me, and his gaze levels with mine.

“I don’t care what you do here.” His menacing words make my heart pulsate faster. I once again place Thea behind me, worrying what he might do to her. “But remember that this has to end. You have until the end of the year to take care of your assets and move back home. Leave the hussy behind. She has no place in your life.”

“Or what?” Iwantto hear his empty threat.

There’s nothing he can do, but my younger self still trembles at the authority my father wields, and the pressure to do something I don’t want to do by snatching something away from me.

Someone.

“Or I’ll make sure that each one of the bars close. You will be homeless by the time I’m done.”

Why would this man prefer to see me ruined than happy?

This isn’t the time to taunt him, nor to give in. It’s clear to me that Father is never going to understand me or forgive me for not following in his footsteps. My therapist insists I have to air all my issues with my parents before I can move on. If they can’t accept my life or my girlfriend, I doubt they would accept that I also date a man. That we have an unconventional, happy relationship.

Surely my day can’t get any worse, right?

But then the elevator opens and Matt and his goofy grin step into the hallway. His brow arches as he approaches the apartment.

“We had a party, and I wasn’t invited?” he asks, urging my parents to come inside the house and shutting the door behind him.

My father turns around to give my boyfriend a thorough inspection too. Tats on his arms, strands of dark blond hair messed as if he had just woken up, raggedy jeans hanging from his hips, and a T-shirt with the Virgin Mary that reads “Abstinence 99.99% effective.” My Catholic mother is going to hate him more than she hates Thea.

Great, couldn’t he have chosen a plain shirt to wear today?

“Matthew Decker.” He nods at them without giving my parents a second glance. “Where’s the food? I only have so much time before my video conference. I doubt the execs will appreciate watching me eat while they grill me for the pilot I shut down.”

Pilot? My eyes wide open.

“Yeah, it was a B-rated show that would cost too much. I couldn’t sell the idea,” he says, as if answering my silent question. “You don’t want to hear that now.”

He then looks at Thea. “I might need my provisional assistant today.”

He winks at Thea, who rolls her eyes. Lately he’s been using her as his assistant. A way to drop by his father’s counseling practice and ask for help.

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