“Aww, Wolf. You’re all red again.” Elliot sighed. “I’m so happy seeing you two together. In case I haven’t mentioned it.”
“Tonight? No. Every other time we’ve spoken, at least once or twice an hour.”
Would he ever get used to it and be more comfortable with public affection? Maybe not. But he’d never cared what other people said or thought, and as long as Spencer knew, that was what mattered to him.
“Well, I am,” Elliot said.
“That’s the second time tonight.” Wolf smiled at Elliot.
“Do you want to watch?” Spencer took his hand. “It’s time. We’re all here to support you, no matter what.”
“Yes. I’m curious to see what exclusive information they have. Hopefully it’s not that there were even more poor women my father abused.”
Spencer squeezed his fingers and turned on the set. Wolf suffered through the candid family shots, wincing at the ones of himself with his father, then the all-too-familiar images of the trial.
“Look at little Wolfie.” Spencer snuggled on his chest. “You were such a cutie-pie.”
“I’m still cute,” he huffed, and Spencer kissed his neck.
“I know. And hot too.”
He smiled and played with the ends of Spencer’s silky hair.
“You looked so happy.” Chess gazed at him mournfully.
“I was. A child’s innocence.”
The reporter’s voice cut into their conversation.“We managed to get this exclusive interview with Mr. Lupo only a few days after his parole board hearing.”
Wolf froze, his stomach cramping. Spencer held his hand tight. The room faded to black, his whole concentration on the screen.
The reporter sat across a small table, but the camera kept its focus on his father. Wolf started to tremble as he watched his mouth move and heard his voice. He sat through the standard questions about why he’d done what he did, and he heard the answers he’d heard before: his father was sick, he was ashamed and didn’t ask for help…none of which Wolf cared to hear again.
“This is bullshit. Why are they giving him any airtime?”
Two of the women who testified in the trial, their faces shrouded in darkness to protect their identity, also spoke, and Wolf listened to their stories. He felt the pain of their abuse and physically hurt for them. The only thing that gave him comfort was that both women had received therapy and had stated that they were happy and living full lives.
“I wouldn’t let him ruin me,”one woman said.“I’m the strong one, and he’s the weakling. A monster.”
At the commercial, Wolf reassured everyone he was fine, but they knew him too well to believe him. Elliot and Chess gave him hugs and words of encouragement, but he merely smiled and nodded.
Spencer shifted closer. “You’re not your father. Remember that.”
“I know.”
The interview resumed.
“Mr. Lupo, your wife was never present at the trial. How come? And how did you feel about it?”
He shrugged.“Cynthia was ashamed, and rightly so. She didn’t want our son to be affected. He was only twelve or so when all this happened, and I can’t even imagine how this hurt him. We were very close.”
Wolf’s heart almost stopped, and he stared at the set. Spencer tightened the grip on his fingers, but he barely felt it.
“You’ve never mentioned your son. Have you kept in touch with him? Does he visit? What kind of relationship do you have?”
Numb and shaking, Wolf watched his father’s face fall.
“I have no idea.”He drew in a shuddering breath.“My biggest regret is never reaching out to contact him. I figured he would hate me so much, he’d never want to see me. Then I found out he changed his name, and that solidified my reasoning.”
