I think about all the years I’ve spent cleaning up his messes. The money. The visits. The emotional labor of loving someone who sees you as a resource to be managed. The guilt I’ve carried for not being a better son, a more loyal son, when the truth is I’ve been the only thing standing between him and complete self-destruction.
And this is how he repays me. By trying to drag down the one person who’s made me smile again after all the hell he caused? That’s how a father treats his only son?
“I’m done.”
It comes out calm. Steadier than I feel.
Bradley blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m done. With him. With all of this.” I stand up, and for the first time in years, my shoulders don’t feel like they’re carrying the weight of my father’s sins. “You guys can stop here. I’mnot paying for this anymore. He can find another legal team. Another son. Another someone to manipulate. I’m out.”
Maybe they should be advising me against abandoning my father, especially when he’s about to go through the hellfire he personally ignited. But instead, all I get is a resounding, “We understand.” Meaning I am the last person on Earth to have faith in my dad.
Except, I don’t anymore. Now, he has no one.
“Do not contact Charlie until I get a chance to speak with her. This has to come from me. Then, her lawyers will be in touch.” I’m already moving toward the door. “And, Bradley? Thank you. For everything. But I’m serious. I won’t be coming back.”
Bradley’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “About damn time,” he says, rising and extending his hand. I shake it, feeling the finality in his grip. “Good luck out there, kid. I hope life gets easier for you.”
The elevator doors close behind me with a soft chime. The marble lobby gleams under my feet. As I push through the revolving door onto the busy sidewalk, each step carries away another ounce of my father’s gravity.
He endangered Charlie.
I could forgive the money he drained from me. I could forgive the way he twisted my words, my thoughts, my feelings to serve his needs. I could even forgive the years where every phone call felt like a hostage negotiation. But dragging Charlie into his criminal schemes—using information I shared in a moment of vulnerability about the woman who is starting to heal what he hurt—that’s where I draw the line. That’s where James Wilkes stops being my father.
I’m free.
For the first time since this bullshit scandal started, I’m free.
LaGuardia is a zoo, but I don’t care. I push through the crowds toward the ticket counter, phone already in my hand.
“First available flight to Atlanta,” I tell the agent.
She types, frowns at her screen. “The next economy seat isn’t until tomorrow morning, but I do have one first-class seat on a flight leaving in…” She checks. “Thirty-eight minutes.”
“How much?”
She names a price that would have made me flinch a week ago. Today, I hand over my card without hesitation.
For years, every dollar I earned went to my father’s legal defense. I’ve lived in a cramped apartment with secondhand furniture and worn sheets. I’ve denied myself vacations, nice dinners, anything beyond the bare necessities of survival. All so Dad could have the best lawyers, the fighting chance he never deserved.
Not anymore.
“First class it is,” I say.
The agent smiles and prints my boarding pass.
As I head toward security, I pull out my phone and call Charlie. It rings. And rings. And rings.
Voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. I’m at the airport—I’m coming to Atlanta. I have something I need to tell you, but I’d rather do it in person. Call me when you get this.”
I hang up and join the security line, phone clutched in my hand. The line moves slowly, giving me too much time to think. Too much time to scroll.
The photos from Tampa are still everywhere.
Charlie and Grayson leaving the arena. Her hand in his. His arm around her waist. That practiced smile she wears like armor.
