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Zanespoke slowly as if explaining how the world worked to a child. “Piyachose to give you a better life over me.Andwhile it brings me no joy to admit it, maybe she made the right decision.Justlook at our relationship.Itreat you the way my asshole father used to treat me.”
“Thenwhy do you do it?”
“Becauseyou were and always will be the greatest love of your mother’s life,” he snapped. “Whatdo you thinkPiyawould’ve done if she came in here and found you with your wrist sliced open?”
Findthe nearest bridge and jump off it.Itwas a cruel thought, but my mind instinctively went there.Momwouldn’t survive it if anything happened to me.
Forthe first time,Iexperienced an emotionIdidn’t thinkIwas capable of feeling.Shame.
“You’rean idiot,” he declared for clarity.
“Thanks.Haveyou considered working as a phone operator for a suicide prevention hotline?Ithink you’d have a hundred percent success rate.”
Zaneappeared agitated, wrapping the gauze around my wrist tighter than necessary. “Doyou think this is easy for me?Imight fight you every step of the way, butIdo admire you as a person.AndIknow that’sAmbani’sdoing.Youwould’ve never turned out okay ifIraised you.”
Therewas nothing to say.Weboth knew the statement to be true.Papashowered me with nothing but love and support throughout my childhood.Nothingcompared to it untilDamon.
“Myfather was an asshole,” he continued. “Andlook at what he turned me into.Hedidn’t care about anything other than alcohol.”
“Youdon’t care about anything other thanMom,”Ipointed out.
Zanenodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps.Butthe sentiment only applies to me.Piyachose you every step of the way.It’simpossible to compete with what she feels for you.Wheredo you think that leaves me?”
“That’smy fault?Youmade my life miserable becauseMomloves me.”
“Iwasn’t trying to make your life miserable,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “Youmight not believe this, butIdid some of those things becauseIwanted you to admire me, too.”
Ididn’t know what to make ofZane’sadmissions and stared blankly.
Mysilence madeZaneuncomfortable. “Yourmother might be dramatic at times, but she isn’t controlling.Sheknew you didn’t want to attend our wedding and suggested excusing you from participating altogether.”
Sonof a bitch. “Thenwhy did you put me through it?Thatday was hell for me.”
“Forgiveme for wanting my daughter at my wedding.”
Saidthe rational psychopath who cut out my dead father’s face from my childhood photos.
“Piyadidn’t make any stipulations for a standingFridaynight dinner, either,” he continued. “Iput the rule in place to spend time with you.Iwas trying to be a little bit better of a father than mine was to me.Didit never cross your mind thatIwas trying to get to know you?”
“No.Doyou know why?Becauseyou were blackmailing me.”
Withan exasperated breath, he said, “Sometimesyou’re just as dramatic as your mother.”
Iblew out an equally frustrated exhale. “You’retelling me that you blackmailed me all these years because you loved me so damn much?”
“Howelse couldIhave gotten you to spend time with me?
Ididn’t know what to say and rubbed my temples.Evenhis fatherly love was twisted.
Zanelet out a relented sigh. “Piyaonce told me that you didn’t need another father, andI’mstarting to believe that works for us.Inever wanted children, and you never wanted or needed a replacement father.However, there is one thingIcould give you instead.Icould be your ally.”
Myhead whipped in his direction. “Whatdoes that mean?”
Hiseyes held untold mystery. “You’llfind out soon enough.Meanwhile, we need to do something about your itchy finger syndrome.”Hepointedly glared at the scalpel.
“Howdid you know to come to this room, anyway?”Iasked since everyone had dispersed after lunch.
Zaneshrugged. “Ihad a feeling you’d try something like this.”
