AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Because he’s twelve.”
“Name one thing you’ve taught him, Damon. I’ll wait.”
“I’m a good father,” he growls.
“You’re a good provider, Damon. That’s it, but life is more than a big house and expensive sneakers. When was the last time you spent more than five minutes with him, having a real conversation?” I ask.
“I talk to him.”
“I don’t blame you. I’m just as at fault as you are. We let video games and television raise him while we built the practice, but I’m done with that. I’d rather live in a shack, wearing threadbare clothes, and know my kid than live in a mansion on a hill and him be a stranger.”
“I have to go. Tell Caleb I’m sorry,” he says.
“I’m not telling him. You—”
I don’t get the sentence out before the line goes dead.
I flip on my bed and scream into my pillow.
I hate him.
