“You want to help? You've been lying to me too.” Troy's eyes narrowed. “You want to talk about secrets? Let's talk about the fact that you're a professional fighter and you never thought to mention it. Let's talk about the fact that you've been disappearing every night to go beat the shit out of people while I'm sitting at home thinking you're working late.”
The accusation stung because it was true.
“That's different.”
“How?” Troy moved closer. “How is that different? You hid a huge part of your life from me. You let me believe you were just a rehab owner when really you're out there getting your face smashed in for money. So don't stand there and tell me I'm the only one with secrets.”
“I didn't tell you because it wasn't relevant.”
“Bullshit. You didn't tell me because you didn't want me to know. Just like I didn't want you to know what I do.” He laughed bitterly. “We're both liars, Declan. We're both hiding. So maybe we should stop pretending either of us has the moral high ground here.”
He was right. I hated that he was right.
“I hid the fighting because it was easier than explaining. Easier than letting you see how much of my life was built around surviving what we lost. Your mother died and I needed to do something with the grief. I needed an outlet that was physical and made sense. Fighting gave me that. It gave me purpose when I didn't know who I was anymore.”
Troy's expression shifted. Softened slightly.
“And the older you got,” I continued, “the harder it became to explain. Because how do I tell you that I've been using violence to process loss when you were doing the same thing? How do I admit that I'm not the stable, together stepfather you needed me to be? That I'm just as fucked up and broken as you are?”
“You're not broken.”
“Yes I am.” The admission felt like ripping the wound open wider. “I'm broken in all the ways that matter. I loved your mother. I stayed for you. But somewhere along the way I lost myself in both of those things and I never figured out how to be whole again.”
Troy was crying again. So was I. Both of us standing in my kitchen at midnight, bleeding and broken and finally, finally being honest.
“I'm sorry,” Troy said. Voice raw. “For making you the enemy. For blaming you for surviving. For spending years punishing you for things that were never your fault.”
“I'm sorry too,” I said. “For not fighting harder. For letting you push me away. For not seeing how much you were hurting.”
We stood there looking at each other across the space that had always felt too wide and too narrow at the same time.
Troy's expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly, reading me in that way he always had. The way that made me feel exposed and seen.
“You're doing it again,” he said quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like that.” He took a step closer. “Like you want to say more but you're swallowing it down. Like there's a whole conversation happening in your head that I'm not allowed to hear.”
My jaw tightened. “Troy?—”
“How long?” The question was sharp and direct. “How long have you been looking at me like that?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Bullshit.” Another step closer. “You know exactly what I'm talking about. The way you watch me when you think I'm not paying attention. The way your hands linger when you're patching me up. The way you can barely fucking breathe when I'm too close.” His voice dropped. “How long, Declan?”
“This isn't—” I took a step back. Hit the counter. “This isn't a conversation we should be having.”
“Why not?” Troy kept advancing. “Because it makes you uncomfortable? Because it's easier to pretend you don't feel it?”
“There's nothing to feel.”
“You're lying.” He was right in front of me now. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin. “You've been lying to yourself since I got back. I see it every time you look at me. Every time you touch me. Every time you try so fucking hard not to want me.”
“Troy, stop.” My voice came out rough and desperate. “This is wrong. You're my?—”
“Your what?” He cut me off. “Your stepson? The kid you raised? That's what you're going to hide behind?” His laugh was bitter. “I haven't been a kid in a long fucking time. And whatever this is between us stopped being about family the second you started looking at me like you wanted to devour me.”
