“You’ll move back home.”
Everyone’s eyes widened when the deep, authoritative voice filled the room. Burke’s back was still turned and his posture was rigid. Both hands were folded behind his back, one lying over the other. It looked like he was in the military and standing at parade rest. So formal. So rigid…
So unaccepting.
“What?” Drew asked.
“You’ll drop out of racing and move back home. I’ll get you that interview at the company here in town. It’s not too late to fix this, to be the man I raised you to be.”
Drew’s mouth thinned. “No.”
Against the small of his back, Burke’s hands clenched together. “You will. Or you will no longer be welcome in this home.”
Adrienne gasped. “Burke!”
I jerked up off the couch. “Are you fucking kidding me!” I went off.
Burke turned around to pin me with a stare. “You are not welcome in this house. Ever.”
“What kind of father would disown his own son?”
“And what did your father say?” He lifted an eyebrow.
I felt like he’d thrown a rock at my chest. I cleared my throat. “I don’t have a father.”
Drew glanced at me sharply. He knew my dad wasn’t around, but he seemed surprised anyway.
“Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be so depraved.”
Drew moved fast, like lightning. One minute he was staring at me, and the next he was flying across the empty space between him and his father. His arm swung back, his fist clenched.
“Drew!” his mother gasped.
His father’s eyes widened in surprise. Just before he delivered the punch, he deflated and dropped his hand. “All my life…” Drew began. “I wanted to be just like you. You were the man I measured everyone against.”
His father lifted his chin, and Drew shook his head sadly.
“But now I’m ashamed. I knew I was going to disappoint you today, and I’ve been struggling with it for weeks. But it’s me who’s disappointed. Disappointed I put so much faith and energy into wanting to be like you.”
“Andrew,” his father said, more emotion in that one word than I’d heard all day. It made me see deep inside that man, he really did love his son.
Too bad he wasn’t better at showing it.
“You won’t bully or threaten me into the life you want me to live.” Drew went on. “I wish you could see how happy I am, how excited. I wish when you looked at Trent, you saw the man I did. A man who is passionate about business, who is loyal to his friends, and who feels more deeply in his little finger than you do in your entire body. You might be disgusted that I love him, but I’m proud. I’m proud to love someone who loves me enough to walk into this house and take the abuse you’ve so casually thrown at him. You want to make me choose? I choose him. I choose my life over the life you want me to have.”
My heart swelled, filling in that crack I’d suffered earlier. There was so much beauty in Drew’s heartbreak. Probably because he was determined to overcome.
Drew turned his back on his parents and looked at me. “I want to go home.”
Without another word, I went to the front door and picked up both our bags. The door was heavy when I pushed it open and stood, holding it ajar.
“Andrew,” his mother called after him when he started my way.
Drew stopped, the pain in his eyes naked and real. He blinked and turned back to his mother. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
She was openly crying now, and he wrapped her in a hug. “My door is always open to you,” he whispered against her hair.
She sniffled against his shirt. I looked up at Burke, who was watching his wife and son embrace. There was guilt in his eyes. Guilt and pain.
Had Drew’s words sunk in?
Now that he was faced with the truth he was literally disowning his son over a lifestyle choice, was he beginning to see the error in his ways?
I hoped so. For Drew’s sake. I hoped this man could find it inside him to remember the child he raised, to remember the person Drew was at his core.
He must have felt my stare because our eyes locked.
The regret vanished, and in its place came hardness. Wrath.
Even though it stung, I wanted him to blame me. I’d rather take the anger and let Drew have the regret.
Unblinking, I held his stare. I didn’t look away until he did.
Drew brushed by me on his way out the door. I stiffened slightly because I didn’t want to accidentally touch. It was my touch that set off the events before. It was probably best if I didn’t touch him again until we were alone.
Assuming he would want me to touch him then.
Yes, yes, I knew he’d chosen me. I knew he said he was proud to love me. But later, when we were in the quiet of the hotel room we were going to have to go and find (we were supposed to stay here), things might feel different. His veins wouldn’t be pumping with anger and challenge. The stinging hurt from his father’s rebuff would be felt deeper… and perhaps Drew would begin to feel regret.