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I lean into Cruz’s shoulder, using him to hold myself mostly upright. “Stupid, right? If he hadn’t cut off the tuition payment the first time I honestly don’t know if I’d have ever spoken to him again. I don’t know why this should be any different.”
“Because he’s never once said he doesn’t want contact with you, he just got too wrapped up in his grief to make the effort. And you’re worried that if you give him a reason, he’ll deliberately disappear.” Cruz’s lips find the top of my head as he strokes his fingers along my arm.
“But it’s the same thing, either way. Accidentally or on purpose, he doesn’t make the effort. Why should I care which it is? Why should I worry how he’ll react to a phone call when it won’t change anything? Not really.”
“Because he’s still your dad, and you still hope one day he’ll be the man he was instead of the man he is.”
I don’t say anything in response—we both know he’s right—but that doesn’t make it any easier to acknowledge. This one phone call might be the equivalent of saying goodbye to my family forever. It’s something I want to be indifferent about, given how they’ve treated me, but the good memories I have won’t let me be that callous. It’s a relief Cruz understands that so well.
“You don’t have to do this today,” he murmurs against my forehead when I haven’t moved some five minutes later.
“No, I do.” I sigh heavily. “Waiting any longer would only make it worse. I just don’t know how to get through this without losing it. The last time I talked to him, I was livid and I didn’t hold back. But if this is the last time I talk to him… Remember how you regretted that your last conversation with Xavier was kind of angry? At least you didn’t know that’d be the last time you talked to him. I know this could be the last time I talk to my dad. But I also know he’ll probably piss me off.”
Cruz offers me his hand. “When it’s too much, just squeeze. As hard as you can.”
This man…
“I fucking love you.” I press my lips to his, lingering long enough that my already jumpy heart starts to slow to its normal rhythm. Then I take a few deep breaths and push the call button, holding the air in my lungs until I hear it connect.
“William?” my dad answers, his voice alone making me sit up straight.
“Liam,” I say mechanically, not to be a dick, but because any emotion in my voice could quickly become overwhelming, and I’d rather get through this without losing control.
“Liam,” he repeats curtly, and I subtly shake my head at Cruz’s I’m ready to play hero frown. I should’ve given him the heads up we disagree about my name before putting my dad on speaker.
After another deep breath, I let the words flow out. “I’m not going to Cornell, Dad. I know you think that’s the best option for me, but I hope you know I wouldn’t be choosing to stay where I am if I wasn’t convinced I was already in the right place.”
I feel pretty proud of myself for getting that out clearly and concisely, until I realize there’s nothing but silence on the other end of the line.
“Dad?”
“Do you mean to tell me you’re dropping out?”
“No. I’m just not transferring.”
“Are you implying you’re at a better school already?”
“For me, yes.” Cruz gives my hand a gentle squeeze, reminding me he’s here.
“You think a school that isn’t even ranked in the top twenty-five universities nationally is better than the one I’m prepared to send you to? Clearly, they aren’t offering the education you need.”
I take a fortifying breath. “Regardless, I’ve made my decision. I know it’s not what you want, but it’s what’s best for me.”
“How can you possibly know what’s best for you? You’re still a child.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from talking before I can get my voice under control. “Legally, I’m not.”
“Numbers on a page, William. They don’t translate to real-world experience.”
“Raising myself while you and mom forgot how to be parents should count for that.” I wince as soon as the words are out, I wanted to be more civil, but I can’t change things now.
“We’ve been through this. Stop trying to punish us for how we grieve.”
“Then stop trying to pretend you know enough about me and my life to say what’s best. Do you know what I want to do with my life? Do you even know what I’m studying?”
Cruz fists his free hand in my peripheral, and I angle my head enough to see that his jaw is set so hard I think he might crack a tooth. But his lips are pressed firmly shut, letting me handle this.
“You’re studying business, obviously.”
