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“Igave you a fucking choice,” I scream cutting him off. He looks startled but not scared, good, that means he can see the pain in my eyes, not only the rage. I was kidding myself. I’m not in control. “You were fifteen years old, and I gave you the choice to stay with her, and of course you wanted to stay with her because you loved her, didn’t you? That bitch! I mean I saw how she acted with you, she was always loving, and always there for you, but it was only when I was there, wasn’t it?” Theo nods, and I see relief in his eyes as well as pain. I throw my hands up and don’t bother to wipe the steady stream of tears coming down my cheeks. “So yeah, Theo! It is my fault! And of course it’s that fucking asshole of a woman’s fault and of course I want to hurt her! I want to wrap my hands around her neck and spit on her stupid face as I break her neck!”
“Jeez, Dad,” Iris interrupts my rant. She also has wet cheeks, but she’s trying to add humor to the situation. “That was dark.”
“I’m feeling pretty dark right about now.”
“Yeah, me too. Too bad we can’t kill her.” She continues with an—almost believable—amused smirk. “Itwouldbe an interesting family bonding experience.”
Mike snorts, and Theo hides his face in his hands. His shoulders start shaking and I immediately walk to him and kneel in front of him, but when I get there, I realize he’s laughing.
I sit back on my heels and look at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry, Theo.” I put my hands on his knees, then lean my forehead on top of them. When I repeat, “I’m sorry,” for a third time, it’s barely audible, and hidden under the wail that comes out of me. I suppose I didn’t get it all out in my office.
Multiple arms come around me, and I hate myself for loving the comfort. I recognize Iris’, then Mike’s, and Tristan’s arms come around me, Theo’s are last.
“I forgive you, Dad. Of course I forgive you.”
I stay like that even after all the arms except Theo’s leave me. I’m not surprised Theo forgave me so easily. I’m sure he believes there’s nothing to forgive, but there’s no way I’m forgiving myself any time soon.
After a while, the patter of little paws on the hardwood floor sound and I see the two big goofballs run to their humans. We settle down to watch Sunday Night Football after the emotional tornado we’d all been through, and I think to ask Tris what happened with Fuckface.
“Oh, I had him sign an NDA that says he can’t come near any of you ever again or any Crawford property.”
Iris snickers while I stare open-mouthed at Tris. “How did you get him to do that?”
He shrugs, “Idiot didn’t even look at what the NDA said. He just signed after I threatened that Theo would drag any court case and all footage would be deleted. Then I explained what he’d just signed.”
“Doesn’t that mean,” Mike shifts and sits up from his slouch on the couch, “I mean, if he can’t go into any Crawford property, that means half the freaking island, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” I whisper, staring back at Tristan. “That was very impressive of you, Mr. Jones.” I kiss his cheek and love the blush that spreads over it.
“Awww you guys are like, really doing this, aren’t you?” Iris asks us.
“Yeah,” I answer her but keep my eyes on Tristan’s pretty green ones. “Yes, we are.”
“That’s great!” Theo shouts and leans over to hug me. “I’m very happy for you, Dad.” He leans back to look me in the eyes. “I mean it.”
“Thanks.” I comb my fingers through his hair.
“I can see you’re still feeling guilty,” he says, tone serious.
“I don’t think that’s going away any time soon, son.”
“Well, how about you come to an appointment with Dr. Sasha with me? I have one tomorrow afternoon.”
“I—” That’s a great idea. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”
“Good, then that’s what we’ll do. She’ll tell you how I’m better. At least I’m better than how I was when I decided to date and trust Fuckface.” He shakes his head, his face in a disgusted frown. “I’ll never forgive myself for telling him everything.”
“That’s even less your fault than what Mary did to you,” Tris tells him. “I mean, the dude’s older than me isn’t he?” Theo nods. “And how old were you when you dated, twenty?”
“Nineteen when we met,” Theo says with another grimace.
“Well, that could be considered grooming. Look, I’ve always liked older men,” he waves a hand in my direction, “clearly. So I understand emotional maturity is not something you even think about when you’re nineteen. And the difference in life experiences from nineteen to twenty-nine or whatever age he was is a huge leap. So really, it wasn’t your fault. He sounds like a freaking predator as far as I’m concerned. You did nothing wrong. Don’t forget, he used something you told him in confidence to cause you pain. This. Was. Not. Your. Fault.”
Yup,I think. I’m falling hard for this man.
The way he’s defending Theo even from himself, God he’s perfect.
