Page 85 of The Love We Deny
“Then why do you insist on hurting me?”
“I hate the way they treat you,” he blurts out, meeting my eyes with a fire that wasn’t there before. “My parents,” he clarifies. “They’ve always—They were happy, you know? Before I was born. Had their perfect daughter. Perfect life. And then I came along.”
I don’t say a word, shocked into silence that he’s actually talking to me.
“I figured maybe they didn’t want me. Maybe I was a mistake, and they kept me around because they had to and—” he shrugs. “I could live with that. Is what it is.”
“Will, they love you—” I can’t help but defend.
“Let me finish,” he says, holding up a hand, and I do, snapping my mouth shut.
“Thenyouwalk through that door. And from the first time they meet you, Frank shakes your hand and calls you son, and Joyce makes your favorite food, and it’s like you were what they were missing all along.” His jaw clenches at whatever memory is going through his head.
“And then it’s not just that they didn’t wantme. It’s why can’t you be more likeNolan. Get grades likeNolan. Go to college likeNolan. Start a family likeNolan. The sound of your name made me want to scream,” he says with a bitter laugh.
“You were everything they wanted me to be, but now that they had you, it didn’t matter so much that they didn’t get it from me. They stopped pretending they cared. Stopped trying. Gaveyoumy place at the table.”
“You’re a dick,” he finishes. “You’re annoying, and you’re uptight, and you’re the son my parents always wanted. So yeah. I hated you.”
“But I—” He pauses, shaking his head. “I don’t hateyou.”
I sit with that for a moment. Taking in his words. Processing them. I feel for Will. I always have. He’s had a hard life, and I’ve always wanted better for him. And Joyce and Frank may not have been perfect. But that’s no excuse for everything he’s done, and he knows that.
“I’m not going to apologize,” I say, “for loving your parents.”
He narrows his eyes, and I know I’m about to ruin any chance of us being anything to each other, but I still say what I have to say.
“You have no idea how much they love you. I’ve watched your mother cry over you for years. Your father defend you to the entire town. Hell, Jess mourned the relationship you could have had. Sure, maybe they wanted better for you. But I know for a fact that they would trade me for you without hesitation. Becauseyou’re their son.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I can only hope that my words are sinking in a little bit.
“But yes.” I wipe my eyes with my palm. “I love that they take care of me. I love that Joyce makes me a cake for my birthday and Frank tries to teach me things he knows I’ll never understand.”
“My parents were good people. I loved them. But they weren’t—” I pause, unsure if I should voice the thing I’ve always kept inside, but I need Will to understand. Even if he still hates me.
“They weren’t warm like your parents. They wanted me to succeed and become a doctor like them, and I did all of it, and they were proud of me. But they didn’t do the big Christmas and the birthdays. They weren’t warm. I don’t know if weeverhugged.”
Will watches me, taking a step forward when my tears flow freely from my eyes.
“But when Jess brought me home, I got all of it. I don’t have cousins or aunts or uncles. I don’t have friends. My kids and your parents are the only familyI have.”
“So no,” I say into the silence, realizing too late that I might have gone overboard to explain myself. “I’m not going to feel bad about that.”
Will hasn’t said a word since I started speaking, but his face has changed. Softened from the anger, into something more tender than I was expecting. “I ruined your birthday,” he says, reaching forward to wipe the remaining tears from my face with his thumb.
“Yeah,” I say, letting him touch me for the first time tonight. “You did.”
He exhales, moving forward until he can put his arms around me and pull me into him. I’m so surprised that I stand there with my hands at my sides, unsure what to do. We’ve never hugged. No one hugs me like this.
But as my shock gives way, I find myself wrapping my arms around his waist, holding on tight. “I’m sorry,” he says, muffled into my hair.
I close my eyes, relaxing into him. “Are you?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just—” He takes a deep breath. “It hurtme, seeing all of that. I haven’t been home for my birthday in twenty years. It didn’t even cross my mind until now. Seeing what I could have had.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to get through to you before.”
He shakes his head, squeezing me tight. “Nobody was getting through to me back then unless they had some drugs to bribe me with.”
