Chapter 61

«TRISTAN'S POINT OF VIEW»

I flipped through the pages of my book, going through the words one more time, but the sound of my phone had erupted again for the past hour. I didn't bother staring at it to know who was calling. I ignored it and went back to studying.

The screen kept lighting up on the table beside me.

"That's the fourth time, Tristan," Sean spoke from where he was lying on the bed, legs stretched out as he read a magazine. "Are you not going to answer the call?" he added.

I shook my head. "I don't want to. Dean must have sold me out to Dad already. I'm pretty sure that's why he's been calling nonstop," I replied, staring at the passage in my book, trying so hard to understand it but getting distracted. The words blurred together.

With a frustrated sigh, I slammed the book shut, my mood instantly turning sour. My gaze went over to my phone beside me, and I watched as it finally stopped ringing.

"Your dad is going to find out sooner or later, Tristan. You can't hide it from him forever. This is your opportunity to finally tell him and get it over with."

I scoffed at the mention of my dad getting over it. He would never. "Dad is homophobic. Do you seriously think he's just going to let it go?" I reeled my head toward the bed and watched as Sean shook his head.

"No, but there's always trying. After all, you're no longer a child."

I parted my lips to counter, but my phone suddenly started vibrating again. The sound grated against my nerves. With a frustrated sigh, I grabbed it and pressed the answer button before bringing it to my ear.

"What?!"

And then, a severe laugh came from the other side. A giggle that brought goosebumps to my skin. My stomach tightened instantly. I hated that laugh.

"First flight tonight. You're coming home." His voice came out like a buzzer, sharp and final, making me gulp.

Of course. This was exactly what I feared.

"I don't want to. You think I'm gonna leave my finals and come home just because you said so?" I countered, trying to keep my voice steady, but a loud crash from the other side had me wincing. I could already imagine him slamming something on his desk. God… he was already furious.

"Don't drill me, Tristan. You are coming back to Canada. I don't care if you don't advance, and I'm gonna make sure you fail your finals if you flout me!"

My grip tightened around the phone. "You think I'm gonna fall for your little menaces? Try again, Dad, because it's not working."

Even as the words left my mouth, a small part of me wondered if I had just made things worse.

Without waiting for a response, I hung up and switched off the phone. "Bloody bastard," I murmured under my breath, but that warning voice didn't seem to leave my head. What was he gonna do, what was the worst he could do? A small knot of unease settled in my chest, not knowing.

"Tristan, come here."

Sean suddenly spoke. I sighed, stood up, went over to the bed where he was, and climbed on, immediately falling on his chest as his arm went securely around my waist.

"Go see your dad," he whispered, tenderly stroking my hair.

"But—"

"Shh, I’m not done," he cut me off, and I nodded, letting him finish.

"Talk to your dad, and if things don't work out, you can always take the next flight back to me. I know your Dad is homophobic, but you're his son, he might have a change of heart."

I sighed and didn't respond, but snuggled close to his warm hands. He was right. Dad was going to find out sooner or later; there was nothing wrong with dropping the bomb earlier. "Fine!" I uttered. Slowly, my eyes fluttered shut, and I fell asleep in the comfortable embrace of the man I loved so much.

~~

Two days later, I found myself standing at the airport with a backpack over my shoulder, Sean being my escort just in case I get a change of heart and decide to run off. I scoffed. Sean was being paranoid.

"Remember what I said...?" He asked as he turned me around to face him as the speakers announced the next flight, which was mine.

"Return if things don't turn out right," I repeated his words with boredom, and he grinned.

"Good," Sean said quietly, his eyes searching my face.

I rolled my eyes, already turning back toward the boarding gate.

Sean tilted his head. "Did I ever tell you, you look cute with a pout on your lips?"

I chuckled. "You are such a romantic, Sean. Fooled me for a second."

Then he brushed his finger on the bridge of my nose. "You seriously spoiled the fun. I was trying to lighten your mood."

A wide smile appeared on my lips as I stood on my tiptoe and pressed my lips deeply against his, and I felt him smile into the kiss while his arms slowly went around my waist and pulled me close. For a moment, I didn’t want to let go. Slowly, I pulled back, staring into his dark eyes. "I love you."

His grin widened. "I love you too, Kitten." Slowly, he swung me around and pushed me forward. "Now, go catch your flight. Don't look back."

Nodding, I did as told as I walked ahead, and I felt his gaze till I was out of sight. I didn't look back because I knew the airliner would take off without me if I did.

~~

It felt like ten years had passed before the flight finally landed in Toronto. With a sigh, I walked out of the airport, my bag hung on my shoulders, and when I stepped out, I felt the Toronto breeze caress my cheeks. Almost instantly, a car was parked in front of me, and I got into it with another heavy sigh. Let's get this over with. It wasn't like he could change my mind about Sean. I rested my head against the window and just waited for the ride to be over.

Finally reaching the mansion after a long drive, I got out of the car and just stood there, staring at it blankly, knowing what would happen the minute I stepped in. It had been more than a year, and this place had already felt so unfamiliar. I felt like I was suffocating on the ground as my chest seemed to swell. I didn't like the air that graced my face. For a moment, I simply stood there, gripping the strap of my bag tighter. Why did coming back feel like walking into a cage?

And just then, the door opened, and my stepmom walked out with a smile on her face, grinning so widely. I tilted my head as she walked closer while I remained standing. I didn't know if it was because of the sun, but she seemed younger. I scoffed. What was I saying?

"Why are you just standing there?" She walked over to me and slowly cupped my face, tilting my head to the side as she scanned my features, and I just let her. "You have grown so much. You look more mature than the last time I saw you."

Even after a year and a half, the hatred I felt towards the woman remained. I felt like her words were coerced, like there was a hidden meaning behind everything she did.

"Come in; your dad would be delighted to see you." She grabbed me by the wrist and began pulling me into the mansion.

We entered the main doors of the mansion and went straight to the living room, but found Dad and Dean sitting together. When did that brat leave LA? I glared at the brat. Again, he had turned out to be a pain on my side.

"Honey, Tristan is home!" she loudly announced, and I watched as their heads reeled in my direction. Instantly, Dad jumped off his feet and marched over to me, grabbed me by my arm, and yanked me towards him forcefully. His green eyes stared deeply into mine; his eyes were bloodshot, and when he spoke, a stronger smell of acid and sour, like vinegar, hit me from his breath. Was that heroin? I shook my head. Dad couldn't be taking drugs.

Instantly, my stepmom went by his side and pulled him away from me. "Honey, we talked about this. You are going to give him a chance to explain." She walked over to a couch and sat him down.

I nearly rolled my eyes at her soothing words to my Dad.

"Tristan, come sit. We are going to talk about this as a family."

Some family I had. This time, I didn't fight the urge to roll my eyes as I went over to the sofa and sat down.

"Begin..." Dad growled lowly.

"Explain what? You called me here."

Instantly, he pointed his finger at me. "Don't you try to act smart with me, Tristan. What have you been doing behind my back?"

"Well, I'm an adult, and I can do whatever the hell I want; it's none of your fucking business."

As if I just hit a nerve, he sprinted over to me and yanked me up by the wrist. His sharp fingers slightly dug into my arm through my sweater. "I'm warning you, Tristan, don't play with me; you're going to regret it." His grip tightened, his eyes deadly while his chest and shoulders went up and down in anger.

"I'm not playing smart with you. What the fuck do you want to hear? I'm gay, and I have a boyfriend who is years older than me. Is that what you want to hear? There you have it!"

With a sudden push, I found myself stumbling over the sofa, and a vicious laugh reached my ears. I looked up to find my dad standing over me. His eyes had become darker; it was like I was staring at someone else who wasn't my dad.

"No son of mine will become a faggot when I'm still alive."

I gasped, my chest tightening as his words hit harder than the shove. Even after expecting it. It still hit hard.