Chapter 31

JESSE

When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Vivian, her hair a mess, mouth hung open as she snored like a chainsaw. A spot of dried drool pooled at the corner of her mouth. She’d also managed to hog the blanket, her arms and legs tangled up in the sheets.

I smiled.

Gorgeous.

The clock on the bedside table read 7:42 a.m. I was usually already up and about by now, but I allowed myself a few selfish minutes. I admired Vivian for a little while longer, noting the three freckles scattered over her left eyelid. I hadn’t noticed them until now, and the discovery left a giddy bubbliness in my chest.

I eventually summoned the willpower to peel myself away and get dressed. It was the start of a new day and there was lots of work to do. First on the to-do list was check the security footage from around the building’s perimeter. Nothing ever got past me. If the cartel somehow discovered Vivian’s location and was spending this time casing the joint before making a move, I’d know in a heartbeat.

When I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to find Wally already there. He was seated at the head of the table, dark circles under his eyes. His fingers were threaded together in front of him, his chin resting on top. The frown he wore was deep.

“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, heading to the stove to make myself a cup of tea.

“We need to talk,” my son said flatly. “About what happened last night.”

I froze mid-reach. Did he know about Vivian and me? Were we not as quiet as I thought we were? I turned, leaning against the counter and gripping the edge. “Listen

—”

“No, you listen, Dad. I’m tired of you brushing off my wanting to go to culinary school.”

I exhaled, shoulders slumping. “Oh, that’s all?”

Wally glared at me. “What do you mean, that’s all? This is important to me, Dad.”

“It’s too early for this. We’ll talk about this later.”

“No, we’re going to talk about this now. This is exactly what I mean by you brushing me off.”

I rubbed my eyes. I didn’t feel like dealing with this headache. “You’re too smart to waste your life working in a kitchen.”

“What if I were stupid, hm? Would it be fine with you then?”

“You’re not making sense.”

“If I suddenly stopped going to classes and flunked out, would you finally get the point that medical school isn’t what I want?”

I clenched my jaw, molars grinding against each other so hard they squeaked. “Don’t you dare throw away your future like that.”

“I don’t want to be a doctor, Dad! I don’t want to spend the next seven years of my life working towards a medical degree. I want to be a chef.”

“What in God’s name for?”

“Because I love to cook!” Wally exclaimed, rising from his seat at the table. “I love food, Dad. I love trying new recipes and inventing my own dishes. I love plating things in visually interesting ways. Being a chef is so much more than just flipping burgers and taking orders. It’s art.”

I scoffed. “When did you even learn to cook?”

“I taught myself,” my son said with a huff. “You wouldn’t know, though, because you’re literally never around. This is the most I’ve seen you in years, and you’re still technically on the clock protecting Vivian!”

“This is out of the question. I’ve worked too damn hard sending you to the best schools, hiring the best tutors. Are you telling me I wasted my time and money so you can become the next fucking Chef Boyardee?”

Wally’s face turned bright red. “Oh my God, this is exactly why Mom left you, you know that?”

I blanched, his words a slap to the face. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

“I said this is why Mom left. You never listen.”

“She didn’t leave me. I left her because she was cheating on me.”

“Because she was miserable,” Wally snapped. “Because you were always working, always going back to serve another tour even though you promised you’d spend more time with the two of us.”

“I don’t know what poison she told you, but I continued to serve so I could earn a paycheck to put food on the fucking table.”

“She didn’t want that. Neither of us did.” Wally’s eyes were wet with the threat of tears, but his lip was curled up with pure anger. “She was so fucking lonely, Dad. But you didn’t know because you were always gone. I can’t tell you how many nights I walked in to find her crying. She missed you so much, but you couldn’t be there for her because the job was always more important. It’s still the most important thing to you. You basically live at the office, and you don’t give a fuck about what I want.”

“How the fuck did we make this about me?”

“Because it’s always been about you, Dad!” he exclaimed. “It’s always been about what you want. You want me to go to medical school. You want me to become a doctor. Did you ever stop and think about what I wanted?”

“Listen here, you ungrateful little—”

“Jesse?”