He shrugged. “It feels icky when you do it.”
“I’ll agree to boundaries if you actually stick to them too,” I said. “Fair is fair.”
Henry scoffed, but it was affectionate and completely transparent. “Fine. You’ll be begging for my stories. I bet they already fuel your sex life at this point.”
“My sex life needs no fueling. I still have the indents from the desk?—”
“Stop,” he said loudly, hand raised again. “I swear to fucking god, this is the beginning of a truly horrific drinking game.”
A laugh escaped me as I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was buzzing, and I would’ve bet anything it was Sebastian asking when we were getting to the restaurant for lunch.
But when I saw the name on the screen, my stomach dropped.
Fuck.
“What is it?” Henry asked, his face turning serious.
I turned the phone so he could see my dad’s name.
“Oh, fuck.” His hands went to his hips, lips pulling down in disapproval. “What are you going to do?”
I stared at the screen, indecision churning—until impulse won. My thumb hit accept, and I lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hello, son. Thought I’d miss you.”
My chest tightened immediately. “Hey.”
“How’ve you been? Missed you in the city. Your mother told me you’d left when we spoke.”
I hummed, my heart beating too fast. That was over two months ago. Apparently time moved differently for him.
“She told me it looked like you and Sebastian were back together. Good for you.”
This…fucking asshole.
“Why are you calling, Dad?” I asked, my voice flat.
A pause.
“We haven’t talked in a while. I thought?—”
“We haven’t talked in a while because the last time we did, you admitted to draining my trust fund. So yeah. That tracks.”
Silence.
“Ethan, that was a joint investment?—”
“A joint investment in which one of the parties—the one who had all the fucking capital—was kept completely in the dark?”
“Don’t talk to me like?—”
“I’m going to talk however the fuck I want,” I cut in. Not loud, but firm. Because he didn’t get to hear me fall apart. “I know you’re not going to give it back. And the only reason I’m even answering is to tell you not to call me again. And if you thought me and Sebastian getting back together was another money ticket for you after you pressed charges against him for something that he didn’t do and that was none of your fucking business, then you are very, very mistaken. Do yourself a favor and delete my number. You no longer have a son.”
I ended the call and let the phone fall onto the couch before I could throw it.
That was that.
He didn’t get the last word.
