“He scammed tons of people out of their retirement investments. His company was the reason families lost everything they’d spent their lives working for. He’s a shitbag of a human. Cut himself a deal to lessen his jail time by ratting out others involved in the scheme. Not because he felt personal responsibility or guilt. But because he wanted out in ten years.
“We lost everything. Went from never wanting to poverty in an instant. The community, friends who were like family my entire life, shunned us. My dad stole from them—his own neighbors and friends. Some people thought my mom was in on it, but she had no idea. People don’t care, though. Guilty by association. You find out real quick who your friends are when you have nothing.”
My heart aches for what he went through. I picture him as a young teen, and how devastating it must’ve been to experience such betrayal from the man who was meant to love and protect him.
“The prep school I attended let me stay on scholarship. I wanted to leave. Move to a new town and make a fresh start, but Mom wouldn’t hear it. She said we weren’t guilty. We had no reason to be ashamed or leave.”
“Oh, Jude.” I reach out to soothe him. I can’t help myself. My fingers run along his shoulder blades in what I hope is comfort. He stills, and for a second I wonder if he’ll push me away, but he doesn’t.
“I hated the loss of power most. I couldn’t do anything. I had nothing. No means. The charity was hard to accept, but it was about survival. My mom never made a big deal. She said a lesson in humility wasn’t the worst thing for me.” He swishes the liquid in his glass and clenches his jaw as if he’s in physical pain. He drinks again. Refills the cup. “She was right, of course. We lived off scholarships, food boxes, and the kindness of others for the first year until Mom was able to find solid work. But the pity was the worst. People who’d looked at me like I was a god, now treated me as if I was pathetic. A lost little puppy. I hated that my father did that to us. To me. I hated him. I still hate him.”
“Understandable. You were just a boy.”
“Grew up real quick. No other choice. I thought that was rock bottom. I had no clue.” He blows out a breath, and drops his chin, his shoulders hunching forward as his forearms brace against the counter’s ledge. When he lifts his gaze to mine there’s so much pain in his eyes, I have to bite back the urge to cry. Dread fills my stomach. “I worked hard. Got a scholarship to UCLA. My mom worked nights for the shift differential, but we spent every Sunday together. Went to the beach. Took the bus all over the city. Things were going good. Nothing to brag about, but we were making it on our own. My mom smiled again. We were a team, she and I.” He scrubs his hands over his face. His eyes cloud with unshed tears. He blinks. A few fall. He rubs his palms against his eyes, hiding them from me. “We didn’t have much money, but we were happy.”
Were. His past tense use of the word churns the foreboding curling in my gut. I brace myself, my shoulders sagging with the depth of his sadness. This story doesn’t have a happy ending.
“She got sick. And turns out happiness isn’t everything. Without money, there aren’t a lot of options. A month into my first semester, I had to drop out.”
I press my lips together so I won’t cry, but a few tears fall anyway.
“Lost my scholarship, but that didn’t bother me. I only wish we’d known sooner. She hadn’t been feeling well, but put off going to a doctor. She didn’t have time to get sick. That’s what she always said. Fuck, Rachel. It took her so quick.”
He tips back his drink, draining the contents in one swallow. His tears fall freely and without pretense. This time, he doesn’t try to hide them or wipe them away.
I pull him to me, and he lets me. This big, strong, self-assured man leans his face into my shoulder and sobs. Ugly, heartbreaking cries. His arms weave around my waist and hold on—as if I’m his life raft and he’s lost in an ocean of hurt. The pain threatens to rip me apart, but I stay strong. For him. Because he needs me. I might not have much, but after all this man has given me, I can be his rock. Hold him as he cries.
“Maybe I should thank my old man.” He sniffles and lifts his head. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. Wouldn’t have worked so hard to get where I am. I have made it my life’s mission to never lose that security that comes with money. My mom and I were happy. If he hadn’t been in jail, if he hadn’t lost everything, we would have had the money to get her the best doctors in the world. We could’ve had more time.”
“I’m sorry you lost so much. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I caress my palm against his cheek, holding his gaze with mine. “I wish I could take that from you.”
“Those aren’t your sins to apologize for.”
“He showed up tonight?”
“Always on her birthday.”
Oh, Jude. That’s why he’s out of sorts. That’s why he’s hurting.
“I just want to be happy again. That’s why I work so hard. That’s why I’ve built all this.” He looks around his condo, but there’s a longing in his eyes.
“Are you?” The question flies from my lips without thinking.
“Huh?”
“Happy?”
He
