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“It’s not as though it’s under your control most of the time,” his dad reminded him.
Emil rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “Trust me, I’ve been more than careful. And I prefer to fuck men.”
His dad just laughed. “I knew I raised a smart son.”
“You didn’t raise me at all,” Emil couldn’t help.
His dad snorted. “Well, I paid for the best education anyway. But the point is, I know I’ve been away for a while, and I didn’t expect to come back to this. I don’t want your name and reputation taking a hit on this, so if you need help?—”
“I don’t,” Emil said, quieter than he expected to be. He knew the pain in his gut was for the small child he’d been who deserved better. He harbored a quiet fantasy that his father would have his come-to-Jesus moment. Maybe he’d wake up one morning and realize all the hurt he’d caused a young child who had no control and grew up with no idea what it meant to be loved.
Of course, Emil was a pragmatic man, and he didn’t really believe it would actually happen, but it hurt every time he realized the truth of his situation.
His dad cleared his throat. “I heard about your mother. You must be relieved about that.”
Emil blinked, staring sightlessly across the still water of the pool. “Relieved?”
“After what she did to you.”
He didn’t know why those words bothered him. Maybe he should be relieved. Maybe he should feel petty and happy that she was gone. Maybe he should celebrate the fact that she probably died alone and in pain after everything she’d put him through. Half his childhood memories were still strange, abstract blanks in his mind. And in a moment of harsh honesty, Sarah told him he may never get them back.
And that was probably a good thing.
“I need to go,” Emil said. “I have a meeting early in the morning.”
“Don’t drink too much tonight,” his dad said.
“I told you I’m?—”
“Sober,” the man said with a harsh laugh. “Something we do tell ourselves, don’t we? Call me if you need my help.”
“I won’t,” Emil said, but he was speaking into silence. His dad had disconnected before he could even take a breath to reply. Letting the phone clatter to the table, Emil put both hands over his face and forced himself to take in a few trembling breaths.
Every muscle in his body was hurting like he’d just finished a twenty-mile hike, and he couldn’t seem to let the tension go. Had he been that much of a callous monster before Victor had dragged him out of this world? He wanted to say no. He needed to believe it. And maybe he could, because he didn’t think there was a force on this Earth that could make his father see the thing he’d become, but it hadn’t taken much for Emil to crack and eventually shatter.
He swallowed past a lump in his throat, and then he finally stood and forced himself to walk back inside, heading toward his cold, lonely room.
* * *
After a shower, Emil shoved his clothes into one of the dry-clean bags, grimacing at the smell of smoke clinging to them. It had been a momentary relief, but now he just felt sick to his stomach. Switching off all the lights, he curled up under his covers and stared at the clock. It was five minutes to midnight. Five minutes to New Year’s Eve.
He had a meeting in the morning, then a holiday by himself when he should be sitting by a bonfire with Renzo in his arms and Matty beside him, ringing in his second chance to be the person he deserved to be.
The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach got worse, and after a few beats of his heart, he cracked. He reached for his phone before he was consciously aware of it, but he didn’t stop himself from hitting Renzo’s name on his phone, even when he realized it was far later on that side of the country.
The call rang twice before Renzo picked up, his voice thick and heavy with sleep. “Hey, sunshine.”
“I woke you. Shit.”
“I told you to wake me if you needed me, and I know you wouldn’t have called if you were fine,” Renzo said.
Emil closed his eyes against the assault of truth. He both loved and hated how well Renzo seemed to know him in such a short time. “My dad called tonight.”
Renzo sucked in a breath, and when he spoke again, he sounded far more alert. “What did he want?”
“To see if I needed more lawyers. He implied he knew people who could make the problem go away,” Emil said, then laughed bitterly. “I shouldn’t be surprised he didn’t care about me. He only cared about what might happen to my reputation.” His dad hadn’t come out and said that any slight against Emil would reflect against him, but he didn’t need to. It was his dad’s one rule after Emil had come to live with him.
So far, he hadn’t broken it in a way that embarrassed the man.
