Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Oliver

My alarm went off in the morning, but I didn’t immediately jump out of bed. This was normal, as I was usually sluggish the morning after a shift at the club due to the lack of sleep. However, that morning I felt lighter, like I was floating just a few inches above my body, and I lay in bed savoring the sensation. Even just thinking about the previous night put a smile on my face and left my skin tingling all over.

D’Angelo and I hadn’t even gone all the way, and I already felt like my brain had been replaced with marshmallow fluff. At this rate, actual sex would turn me into a useless puddle.

Eventually, about fifteen minutes later than usual, I rolled out of bed. Downstairs, Nana was on the phone with someone, and my mother was already in the kitchen putting breakfast together. I grabbed a place and started eating, while simultaneously packing the leftover sausage and eggs into a container for lunch.

My mother sat on the other side of the table, but rather than focus on her breakfast, she instead just stared at me.

“Rowan was telling me about your outing the other day. He said your date was, and I quote ‘Giving off strong Daddy energy’. I’m not actually sure what that means, but the way he said it sounds like a good thing.”

I choked on my breakfast and slapped myself on the chest to convince the eggs to stay out of my lungs.

“I wouldn’t describe him like that. I mean, he’s attractive, but...” I quickly stopped talking before I said anything more embarrassing.

Mother only grinned and poked at the fruit slices on her plate. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m just glad you’re getting out there and meeting people. But you can’t leave me in suspense. Tell me you at least have a picture for me to see.”

I didn’t say anything, but with a blush and a small smile I nodded and handed her my phone. There weren’t many pictures of D’Angelo on there. Just one candid shot I’d managed to snap of him in the coffee shop, and a single picture from our date.

She studied the pictures for a moment, the thoughts behind her eyes unreadable. Although I was twenty-two, I still felt like a child waiting for my parent’s approval.

“He does look just like Rowan described,” she finally said. “Although... How old is he?”

Nervously clearing my throat, I swirled the orange juice in my glass until it made a whirlpool just so I wouldn’t have to look at her directly.

“He’s, um, thirty-eight.”

Before Mother could say anything, Rowan rolled into the room. “Yeah. Oliver snagged himself a sugar daddy.”

When I was younger I would have chucked a bread roll at his head. Although no longer a kid, I was still tempted.

“Shut up. It’s not like that.”

At the table, Rowan slid a plate closer to himself, but never stopped grinning at me. “Older. Rich. Obviously horny for your ass. Sounds like a sugar daddy to me.”

I gave in to the childish impulse and actually did throw a roll at him. “You’re a terrible brother. Making me sound like a gold-digger. I don’t care about his money.”

“What’s this about money?”

I hadn’t noticed Nana enter the room, and immediately fell silent as she approached the table.

“Take a look, Nana,” Mother said as she handed over my phone. “We’re talking about Oliver’s date. He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

My phone, with its cracked screen and protective case printed with Van Gogh’s Starry Night , looked odd in her hands. Somehow both too modern and too old at the same time. I had no idea how she would react to D’Angelo. She’d never had anything to say about my dating life before, but there also hadn’t been much to talk about.

She was silent for a lot longer than I expected, and I began to squirm nervously in my seat.

“Hmm,” she eventually said, her lips pursing so tightly that the wrinkles around her mouth pulled smooth. “Not a good man.”

“Nana,” Mother scolded and snatched my phone back from her. “How can you say that about someone after just looking at a picture? Rowan says he was a real gentleman on their date. It was even his idea to bring Rowan in the first place.”

“Yeah,” Rowan agreed. “He was actually really nice.”

Nana just sniffed with a look of obvious disdain. “Too old for Oliver. What is he? Twice your age?”

“Not that much,” I mumbled, although as I did the math I realized she was almost right. Thirty-eight was only a few years away from being double my own age. However, D’Angelo looked younger than he really was, and unless Nana had been eavesdropping on my conversation with my Mother, then she shouldn’t know his actual age.

Why should it matter anyway?

Would dating someone my own age who treated me like crap be better just because their years matched mine?

My appearance meant I had a more limited dating pool than most. I couldn’t afford to be picky over something as pointless as age.

If Nana heard me, she gave no indication and just kept talking. “There’s no good reason for an older man to pay attention to a boy your age. Your father would be horrified to know his son was involved with a man like this.”

Silence descended over the table.

I stood from my seat without even realizing I’d moved. With numb hands, I took my phone back from my Mother, gripping it so tightly it was in danger of cracking again.

“Well, that’s too bad. My father doesn’t get a say in my love life since he ran off rather than deal with having a disabled son and an ugly one.”

A guardian angel must have been looking out for me, because before I could say anything else, the alarm on my phone went off, warning me it was time to leave for work.

I stormed out of the house, so mad my blood felt like it was boiling in my veins, and slammed the door behind me.

My rage still hadn’t subsided by the time I boarded the public bus, and the dark look on my face ensured that I easily found a seat for myself. Grumbling under my breath, I sat down, clutched my backpack to my chest, and leaned my forehead against the cool glass.

Why did she have to bring up my father?

Even so many years later, the memory of him was still as sore as a fresh bruise.

It might not hurt so bad if he’d always been a terrible father, but the first years of my life were actually filled with happy memories. He wasn’t the most present parent. He was often busy with work, so I didn’t see him as often as I would like, but when he was home he acted like a proper father should. Helping me with homework, teaching me how to play catch, and that kind of cliché father-son stuff.

Mother also hadn’t worked so much back then as well, so I had plenty of her attention whenever Father wasn’t around.

All in all it had been a normal, happy childhood.

For the first seven years.

Everything seemed to unravel when Rowan was born.

No, it was before that. Even before Rowan was born, when Mother was still pregnant, Father started acting even more distant than usual. It was like he knew something bad was coming, and he already had one foot out the door. When Rowan was born with SMA, it seemed to be the last nail in a coffin I hadn’t even realized we were building. Then the house fire buried that coffin six feet under so it would never be seen again.

“Stupid Bastard,” I muttered against the window as I watched the familiar streets roll by. A light summer rain dotted the glass with small drops of water and turned everything a milky gray color. “You can’t just leave when things get hard.”