Page 77 of Yard Sale

My family was so fucking ridiculous. But I had a feeling Tiago was going to like that.

CHAPTER 18

TIAGO

“So you’re calling me a shitty father, eh?”

“I’m saying that your son made his way to my street without even knowing where I was staying because you let Dad run his mouth like the fucking asshole he is,” I snapped back at Thierry. “This is not okay. You realize that, right?”

Thierry was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Tell that old fucker to shut up, for one. Defend your son. Let him know that he’s not a fucking freak just because he’s going to go⁠—”

“Might! He might go…” Thierry’s voice stammered to a halt. “He might.”

Bowing my head, I took a breath. Those were the words I’d repeated to myself over and over and over until my throat was raw. I was angry at Thierry, but I couldn’t deny him his fear over the struggles his son was going to have.

“Do you really want to let Mom and Dad treat Oliver the way they’ve treated me? Do you want Oliver to walk into a house one day and get screamed at for something he can’t help? Do you want him to feel as unwanted as I do?”

“It’s not the same,” he defended.

My laugh was so bitter it made the back of my throat ache. “Oh, I know. He’s not a shame child. I get that. But you can’t deny that Dad has taken perverse pleasure in making people feel really, really small.”

Thierry let out a slow breath. “Can I talk to him right now?”

Oliver was in Rohan’s room with his headphones on and the lights off. I didn’t think he’d appreciate having to deal with his dad after everything. I didn’t even know the full story.

He gave me the short version—Grandpa was an asshole, Dad said nothing, I stood up for myself, Grandpa shoved me out the front door and locked it behind me.

“He’s asleep,” I finally said. “And frankly, I think you, Anne, and everyone else should sit in your fucking shame.”

Thierry made a noise of protest. “Anne is pregnant, Tiago. This is stressing her out.”

“Okay, and your son is a teenager who was just given a life-changing diagnosis, and the moment he asked for support, he got tossed out on his ass. You think he’s not stressed? Or are you more worried about your replacement baby that has a good chance of having the same condition?”

“She doesn’t,” Thierry blurted, and then shut his jaw so hard I heard his teeth clack over the speaker.

“What the fuck does that mean?” But I knew what it meant. “Is that baby yours?”

“Of course she’s mine!”

“You know what I meant,” I snapped.

His silence answered that question for me.

“You are such a fucking dickhead. Why do you want your son to come home if you already have your new, perfect baby cooking?”

“Because I’m sorry, okay? I love Oliver, and I’m sorry, and Anne is beside herself. She’s been throwing up from the stress, and she’s threatened to fucking divorce me if I don’t stand up to Mom and Dad.”

Well. That was something. It was not what I expected. “You want him home so your wife doesn’t leave you?” Maybe that was a bit mean, but he needed some goddamn mean right then.

He didn’t answer that question. “Can I come by tomorrow?”

“I’ll ask Oliver. He’ll probably want to see his mom before he sees you,” I admitted.

“Okay.”

I didn’t expect him to give in so easily, so maybe I was a little wrong. Maybe he did miss and love his son.