“To be honest, I don’t have a hard and fast plan yet. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I could do with my business degree and what’s possible with the music industry in Austin, and I think I want to work as a creative producer or talent manager.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Hold on, I thought you wanted to be a musician or something?”
“I don’t want playing music to become a job for me,” I explained. “What I want is to bring music to other people. You know, help indie artists work on their first big album or scout local talent and work to promote them. I want to make the magic happen behind the scenes, not out on a stage.”
He regarded me with a narrowed gaze as his fingers tapped on his glass absently, the light clink of his nails sounding like gunshots in the quiet stillness of the room. I was two seconds from screaming out the anxiety building in my chest when he finally nodded at me, his lips curving up in a soft smile.
“I can see it.”
Something inside me cracked open at his simple acknowledgment and I threw my arms around his shoulders. He set his glass down and wrapped me in a tight hug, telling me he loved me and how proud he was. I hadn’t realized just how badly I’d needed to hear those words from him until the ever-present knot in my chest loosened and fell away.
“What about Grandpa?” I asked when we pulled back.
“Leave him to me. He’s an old grump, but he’ll listen to reason and he does love you, Dawson. Your happiness matters to him. Almost as much as it matters to someone else down there…”
My stomach soured, thinking of how sideways dinner went and how horribly I’d handled things with Theo afterwards.
“I’m sorry about the way he reacted back there,” I said awkwardly. “He’s just really protective of me and can get a little...intense about it.”
“I don’t fault him for that. Even if the way he went about it was a little over the top, it’s clear that he loves you deeply and has no problem standing up for you. A parent can’t ask for more than that for their kid,” he smirked, but it fell just as quickly. “But there was more going on there than just protective instincts, right?”
The knowing look he shot me said enough and I could only nod. I didn’t want to voice the concerns that were blaring in my head, the ones I couldn’t ignore after tonight.
“You know this is a big commitment you’re taking on if you choose to stay together,” he said, not unkindly. “Mental illnessdoesn’t only affect the person, but their partners and families too. As much as you love each other, it won’t be easy to navigate that sometimes. Are you prepared to take that on and go through all of that with him?”
“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. “A future that doesn’t involve Theo isn’t a future I have any interest in. When it comes down to it, I’ll choose him above everything. I’ll always choose him.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he smiled. “I’m so damn proud of the man you’ve become, Dawson. Theo is a very lucky man and for what it’s worth, I think you two will beat the odds.”
Warmth spread over me at the confidence he had in us. “Thanks, Dad.”
He slapped me on the back and stood up. “I’m going to go downstairs and have a talk with Pops. I also have a feeling I’ll be doing some groveling with your mother for ruining her Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Yeah, good luck with that one,” I chuckled, trailing him to the door. He stopped me at the threshold with a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into another strong embrace.
“I’ll always be here for you, champ. No matter what you need, I’ve got your back.”
I soaked in the hug, relieved that things with Dad were on better terms than I could have hoped for. At last, we were on solid ground and I was actually looking forward to hitting reset on our relationship and showing him the side of me he hadn’t seen before.
I strode to my room and immediately went for my nightstand to check my phone. Theo hadn’t called or texted since he walked out, but what the fuck did I expect? I was such a dick to him, even knowing that he wasn’t in full control of himself tonight. I tried calling him, but it went to voicemail after a few rings. Icalled three more times, hoping to wear him down enough to answer me, but he never did.
Fighting the urge to march over there and demand he talk to me, I sent him a text instead.
ME
Baby, please pick up? I’m so sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. Please talk to me…
I waited for several minutes staring at the screen, anxiously hoping to see the message marked as “read”. I fired off a few more texts, each one increasingly more desperate as I paced my room and warred with myself over what I should do. If he needed space, I wanted to respect that, but I was chomping at the bit to fix what I’d fucked up.
Eventually, I settled back on my bed and stared up at my ceiling, going over the events of the last hour in my head. How had everything gotten so screwed up so fast? How did we go from passionate nights and guitar dates to yelling matches and thoughtless words?
A sick, ominous feeling coiled in my stomach. Something wasn’t right and the more I tried to brush it off as guilt over our argument, the worse it got. Chills coated my body and a cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and for a minute, I worried my dinner would come back up.
Fuck it, I couldn’t wait anymore. I’d given him more than enough time and space since he left, but it had been over two hours now. If he didn’t want me around, he could say it to my face. At least I’d see with my own eyes that he was okay.
I darted out of my room and barely managed to keep from sprinting out the door. None of the lights were on in his house that I could see as I hurried across the sprawling lawn, and I wondered if I was overreacting and he’d just fallen asleep.
Please God, just let him be asleep…
