“Don’t start crying on me.” He blows out a breath. “This isn’t about you. There’s shit you don’t know and never will. It’s how it has to be.”
“Last boarding call,” the voice in the background says over a speaker.
“Could we at least meet?” I ask, sniffling. “One last time?”
“I’m already gone and I’m not coming back. I never belonged there. Never wanted to be an actor. That was Brock’s thing.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
He huffs. “You ever try to say no to my brother? The guy could convince anyone to do anything. When we were kids, I looked up to him. Wanted to be him. So I did whateverhedid. Did whatever he told me to. The only time I didn’t is when I went into theater while he was going into TV. He told me theater didn’t pay enough, but I wasn’t doing it for the money.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“For the people. I made a lot of friends in the theater. I liked New York. I didn’t want to leave.”
“But you did.” I pause. “Because you didn’t want to raise a kid.”
“It wasn’t about that. I left because Brock told me I’d make millions living in LA, working in TV. It worked for him, but not for me. And I hated it. I hated the fake people and my agent always lying to me. My manager taking all my money. Drugs were being handed out like candy. Brock could say no, but I couldn’t, and he knew that. He knew I had an addictive personality.”
“You blame Brock for your addictions?”
“I blame my brother for a lot of things, but it needs to stop. That’s why I need to go. I’m done living Brock’s life. It’s time to live my own.”
“Living Brock’s life? I don’t understand. Your life is nothing like Brock’s.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It sure isn’t.”
“Dad, would you please just let me see you one last time?”
“No. And this is our last phone call. Don’t try calling me back. I’m ditching this phone after tonight. I won’t have this number anymore.”
I wipe the tears from my face. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Please. Tell me why.”
The phone goes silent, and I panic, thinking he hung up. I check my phone and see his name is still on the screen.
“If I tell you this,” he says in a low voice, “you need to promise me you’ll leave me alone.”
I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You also need to promise me this stays between us. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” I sniffle. “What is it?”
“When I say I was never a father to you, it’s not just because I wasn’t around. It’s because I wasn’t. I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“I’m not your father, Rumor. I just pretended to be.”
I grip the phone. “Then who is?”
“The man you’re living with.” He pauses. “Brock is your father.”
Chapter 24
I’m shaking, barely able to hold the phone in my hand.
He’s lying. Brock isnotmy father. I hate him. And he’s a horrible person. He might even be a murderer!
