21
STEVEN
I have a son…
I’ve been driving around the snowy streets of Michigan for hours, unsure how to process this new information. I believed Becca when she told me that the real father was some random person she met after she left Grand Rapids.
Now, I just feel ridiculous and embarrassed for being so naive. All the signs were there, and I chose to ignore them. Now that I know the truth, it’s all coming together. His looks, his hobbies…
They match mine, and that’s something that is inherited, not learned. Was I so blinded by love, I couldn’t see through the lies?
She lied to me for five fucking years. Then she shows back up in my life and lies directly to my face, and I believed her. I feel betrayed again.
And how dare my family do this to me? They knew all this time that I had a child, and they kept it from me. Pretending that everything is fine directly to my face. Do I not have anyone I can trust anymore?
To threaten the woman I love…That took balls.
Now that everything is out in the open, I can’t seem to wrap my head around being a father. Don’t get me wrong, I love Damian. We’ve already bonded so well, but after her lying to me, how can I get over this…How can I ever trust her again?
Without paying attention, my car pulls into the driveway of my parents’ house. I sit for a moment, staring at the lit window of the dining room. I can already imagine them all inside, laughing and enjoying their dinner while I’m out here suffering.
The blood is on their hands, and they haven’t lost an ounce of sleep over hurting me.
That thought fuels me enough to climb out of the car and storm inside without announcing my presence. Practically stomping through the foyer, I stand at the end of their extravagant dining room table that was hand-carved and imported from France.
I only know this because my mother wouldn’t shut up about it for three months after it arrived. My father looks up at me for a second before returning his attention to his plate and laughing at something Mom said earlier.
“What did you do?” I ask low, but loud enough for them to hear me. To my surprise, they choose to ignore me as if they knew this was coming. Of course, they did. They are the ones who told Cam the previous night.
They are the ones who started the chaos.
My hands tighten into fists before I reach forward and clutch one of the empty dinner plates. As hard as I can, I chuck it at the wall beside my mom, and I smile as I watch it shatter to the floor.
Mom jumps, and their eyes now lock onto mine. “Great, I got your attention,” I grunt. “Now, what the fuck did you do?”
“Son, what on earth are you talking about?” my father asks, and it’s obvious he’s playing dumb, which only makes me angrier.
“You know damn well what I’m talking about. The threats to Becca? The child? All about what her grandfather did when he was alive? That doesn’t reflect the person she is. Get over yourselves.”
My father’s face grows red with anger as I lay into them both. “We did what we needed to do, Steven. Do you think you’d be where you are now if she had tied you down with a child? Hell no! We helped you.”
I scoff at his words. “Helped? What a fucking joke,” I holler back at him. “You ruined my life…You ruined hers. And Damian…” I stop myself as I realize that I’ve been angry at Becca, but all she was trying to do was save herself and her unborn baby.
She was protecting me.
She shouldn’t have lied to me, but I now see why she did. I thought I knew just how terrible my parents were, but I was mistaken. They are far worse than I could’ve ever imagined.
“You don’t owe him anything,” Cam announces to my parents as he walks into the dining room holding an open beer. He stands behind his chair and smirks at me. “You saved him from a life of being tied down by some common whore.”
The moment he speaks these words, I see red. Within an instance, I rush up to Cam and shove him hard, causing him to drop his beer on my mother’s precious white carpet.
“What the hell, man,” Cam exclaims.
“Say it again.” With my warning to him, my nose is practically touching his as my wide eyes shoot daggers into his.
That all-too-familiar grin forms on his face. The one he makes right before choosing violence. “I said Rebecca Gallagher is nothing but a fucking slut.”
My hands shove into his chest again, harder this time, and the momentum sends him flying back. He loses his balance. As his ass bounces across the floor, I drop to my knees, pinning him down, and I raise my fist back, ready to drill it directly into his face.
