Crazy Love (mxm)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Carter's POV

"You're miserable."

My father's harsh words jolted me out of my random thoughts. ...Okay, no, my thoughts weren't that random. They were about James. They always were.

"I'm not miserable," I insisted, although not very passionately. I was miserable. Ish. "I'm just going through a change, that's all."

My dad propped rugged hands onto his love handles. The look he gave me was judgmental. "You've lost weight. You hardly smile. You have bags under your eyes. And Ronan tells me that you've taken him to fun places nearly every day."

My head shot up. "That's a good thing."

Truth be told, it had been one month without James. It didn't feel real yet that we were over. I still saw things that would make him laugh and had to stop myself from texting him. I'd still dream of him. I walked into rooms, ready to say something, before I realized that he was gone.

Dad settled into the chair across the table from me. He wrapped a hand around his coffee and took a long sip, probably to help him figure out his own thoughts.

When he finally spoke, he said, "I think you're burying yourself into making your son happy. Just to avoid the fact that you aren't."

Before I could argue against that, he waved me off.

"I love you, son," he said, which usually meant there was an insult coming. "But you can be a bit of an idiot."

This wasn't helping anything. "I wish Mom were here."

It was a pathetically childish thing to do. But part of me hoped that he'd be offended enough to stop trying to give me advice.

Instead, he leaned back and looked at me through wary eyes. "She took peanut to the park to give you a break."

"I don't need a break from my own son."

There was another microscopic silence, and then he said, "Kid. I'm not good with this romance thing. But I liked that guy."

I flinched.

I was greeted with a mini version of the tumultuous and indecisive thoughts that I'd been having for the past two weeks. Thoughts of James and his smiles and his brightness. Thoughts of us and Ronan and the happiness that we shared. Thoughts of blood and panic and the unwavering certainty that it would happen again if he stayed.

"You're only twenty-three," Dad continued, giving me a look that almost seemed like pity. "You're a kid. You have your whole life ahead of you. I know you love your boy, and you're the best father I know, but you should probably accept that your life didn't end when Ronan was born."

Anger flashed through me. "I don't think of Ronan as a burden. He's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

I got a pat on the hand for my defensiveness. "I know that. I'm not saying that. I'm saying that you should focus on you a little more."

"He made me stupid," I snapped. It was the first thing I'd said about James since our break up.

"Oh?"

I played right into his fishing for more information. "Yes. I let down my guard and I trusted him. I was stupid."

"He cheat on you?"

"No." The thought was ridiculous. James wasn't like that. "He was drunk, gave Ronan a knife, and pushed Ronan by mistake. Hence the hospitalization."

One bushy eyebrow quirked. "Sounds like an accident to me. Except the knife bit. Is he violent?"

"No— he was letting Ronan cut out a brownie." Which sounded pretty uneventful when compared to the violence my dad was expecting.