Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t anyone tell him?” my brother cuts him off.
“Because we didn’t want anyone to know. It was private family business. I told her I would raise her son, and I did.”
Her son, her son, her son. There it is. He doesn’t see me as his. To him, I will never be his son, and it looks like he’s right. I’m not. I never have been. No wonder he hates me.
“If this happened so long ago, why do you still have the DNA results? Why would you keep something like that?”
“I don’t know, Cedric. Maybe to remind myself I’m not as bad as the two of you seem to think. I raised a son that’s not mine. I’ve supported him, put him through college…”
He raised me, but he didn’t want to. Hell, maybe he wants to be done with me now, to stop pretending. He’s been holding it against me my whole life, something that’s not my fault, and I don’t know what to do with that.
I step around the corner and into the room. “But you didn’t love me.” And maybe I’m wrong for expecting that of him. Or to wish he did. To want things to have been different.
I can’t wrap my head around what he’s saying, what my mom did.
But what I do know is he’s never loved me.
“Dax,” my brother says, pain in his glistening eyes. Mine are the same, the room looking soft through unshed tears. “I’m so fucking sorry.” He takes a step toward me, but I hold my hand up to stop him.
I don’t know why I can’t fathom the thought of being consoled by my brother, my best friend, but is there really a manual for how to behave when something like this happens?
Miles steps up beside me, letting me know I’m not alone. The warmth of him takes some of the sting out. The pain is still there, the confusion, and just…the feeling of my whole life being a lie, but he’s here, with me, and that helps.
“I love you the only way I know how,” my father says, and…shit. He’s not that, is he? He’s not my father. “I’ve been here for you, I’ve raised you. I’m still here.”
Yes, he is, even if he wishes he wasn’t. That’s more than my real father can say. He knew I might be his and walked away. Chose not to see if he had a son, washed his hands of me before even giving me a chance.
Neither of them wanted me.
But my mom had. She’d wanted me and loved me, but she also lied to me. She let me believe my father hated me, let him treat me like I didn’t matter, and never made sure I understood why. That none of it was my fault.
I can’t believe she didn’t tell me, that she knew why he could hardly stand the sight of me, and despite trying to make up for it, to love me enough for both of them, she left me feeling like I did something wrong. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t love me, why I could never be to him what Cedric is, and now I know.
And I also know now that things will never change.
“You weren’t meant to find out, Dax. I’ve always taken care of you,” Dad reiterates, like I should be thankful, and I guess in some ways I should, but the pain, a lifetime of pain, surges in me until I can’t hold it back anymore.
“With money!” I shout. “I spent my whole fucking life wondering what’s wrong with me! What I did wrong. Why you never looked at me the way you do Cedric. Do you know what that does to a person? Do you know how much that’s fucked with my head?” I lean closer to Miles, needing to feel him there with me. “I thought there was something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Cedric says.
My father—shit, that’s going to take some getting used to, to not call him that—runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry you felt that way. I did my best, Dax. This wasn’t my mistake. It was hers, and now we’re left picking up the pieces.” He straightens his suit jacket. “Now, why don’t we go sit down to an early dinner?”
Dinner? Fucking dinner? He wants me to eat? This is so him. Just like he tucked away the truth of his wife cheating and having another man’s baby, because giving the impression our family is perfect means more to him than anything else. I can’t even handle to be in this room, in this house right now. My chest tightens, and I start to feel like I can’t breathe.
“I’m taking Dax home,” Miles says, the exact words I need to hear. I can’t be here right now. I need to sort through what the fuck this means and how I feel.