A/N: This chapter is in Trent's P.O.V. because I really wanted to capture the conversation he has with his dad from his perspective, I didn't want you to hear it from Grayson eavesdropping outside. Hopefully this also gives you more insight into Trent as a character as well. I don't really like to change voices mid book but I thought this was necessary. I hope you enjoy!
Trent's P.O.V.
We got to the hospital and quickly found my dad's room. He was awake and reading a book while watching the news. I knocked lightly before Grayson and I entered the room, hand in hand. Dad looked over at us and... smiled?
"Hey son," he said, closing his book and setting it on the nightstand by his bed.
"Dad. How are you feeling?" I asked, Grayson tensing up beside me.
"Like I could use a drink," he laughed. My face dropped. "I'm joking, I'm sorry that wasn't funny."
"You're going to stop drinking, right dad?" I asked in a near whisper, eyes on the linoleum floor.
"I am. There's a program here at the hospital, I have to complete it before returning to work."
"You're going to take it seriously, right? You're not just going to make things look good to get clearance and then go back to the way things were?"
"Trent, I'm serious about this. I know there's no fixing the pain I've caused, but I hope that we can try to move forward from this."
I just nodded, unsure of how to respond to that. How do you move forward from your father killing your mother, then abusing you for years in a drunken haze, all to eventually throw you out for being queer? I didn't know if we could have any kind of relationship. So, we stood awkwardly in silence for a few moments. Grayson was clutching onto my hand like he might fall through the floor if he let go. I pulled him closer to me and kissed his head, reassuring him with a tight squeeze that he was safe. I knew being around my father must be triggering for him, but he knew I couldn't do this alone. I was so thankful for Grayson, he was the rock that was holding me together right now, so understanding and loving, I don't know what I ever did to deserve him. I made a mental note to myself to make sure I showed him how appreciative I was.
"It's Grayson, right?" Dad asked as he turned his attention to my boyfriend. Gray nodded nervously and held tighter to me.
"Would you mind giving us a few minutes to talk?"
"Dad, anything you have to say to me you can say in front of my boyfriend." A look I couldn't quite place flashed across his face at the word 'boyfriend.'
"Trent, please. I want to just have a conversation with you," he pleaded.
"Alright," I sighed before turning to face Grayson. "I'll be okay baby." I kissed him gently before ushering him out of the room. "So talk," I said flatly as I turned back to my father.
"I owe you a million apologies, son. And like I said I don't think I can ever fix things, but I have to try."
"You can't fix a dead mom, you can't fix disowning me for who I love, you can't fix years of neglect and physical and emotional abuse due to your drinking!" I shouted, face no doubt red with anger. A lump was forming in my throat and I tried to blink back the tears that were welling up in my eyes.
"Cut the hostility, Trent. I'm trying to have a serious conversation."
"So am I! I'm serious. There is nothing you can do that will make up for all of the fucked-up shit you've done."
"Son, I know I haven't been the best father," he started.
"You've barely even been a father!"
"I know."
"If it weren't for you Mom would still be here," I cried, finally breaking down.
"Trent... I know all you probably remember about your mom is us fighting. And I'm sure she called me every nasty name in the book."
"Mostly a cabrón," I laughed, remembering my mom calling my dad a bastard and thinking I didn't know what it meant.
"Your mom suffered with depression, her whole life."
"And your abuse drove her to suicide."
"Maybe it did. And that's something I've never forgiven myself for, and I ended up hurting you even more. This doesn't remove any of the blame from me, but she had tried to kill herself before, as a teenager, when we were dating." My heart dropped.
"I didn't know that..." I knew my mom was depressed, but I didn't know specifics, I never asked either, I thought it would make things worse.
"Your mom loved you so much, and she tried so hard to keep her pain from you. But she was always suffering. And we were dumb young kids, our families pressured us into getting together. We were happy at first... and then we got married. She was too depressed to function most days and I was a stressed medical school student. I didn't know how to handle my anger; therapy was not an option for me, and none of it worked for your mom anyway. So we fought, we both said and did unforgiveable things."
"And mom paid for them with her life."
"And to this day I still can't handle the fact that I may have been at fault."
"May have?" I scoffed. I didn't know why my dad was telling me any of this. I didn't know who he was trying to convince that this was inevitable. Me, or himself.
"Trent..."
"Okay so Mom was always depressed, and you were always a shit bag... so rather than stepping up when she died you just became even more of an alcoholic?"
"I didn't know how to handle it all..."
"I needed you!" I shouted before I could stop the words. More tears were flowing and multiple people stopped dead in their tracks in the hall. I dared to look at my dad and saw tears in his deep brown eyes.
"I know," was all he could manage to say.
"I needed you," I sobbed again, pathetically.
"I wasn't ready to be a father, and that wasn't fair to you. So I shut down, I took the cowards way out."
"Dad, do you remember the things you said and did when you were drunk?"
"No, I know I didn't treat you well, but I don't remember specifics."
"You hit me," he winced as I spat the words. "You made me feel worthless, you made me feel like you didn't want me or love me."
"I do love you, son." Those words caught me off guard, and my breath caught in my throat. I stared at him for a moment before speaking again, choosing to ignore those words that I wasn't ready to hear.
"You called me a faggot. And worse than any of that, you tried to attack Grayson." His eyes widened.
"I... w-when?" He stuttered out.
"When you caught us in bed together. You lunged at him and for the first time in my life I really fought back."
"Trent... god I'm so sorry."
"He's already been through so much. It was my job to protect him, I was supposed to keep him safe. Then my own father almost attacks him."
"That's on me, son. I'm so sorry. I'm going to get better. I don't expect you to forgive me, or to even have a relationship with me. But I just want you to know that you're the reason I'm doing this. What I've done is inexcusable. But none of it was because I hate you for being gay or whatever it is you are, it's not because you're a disappointment, or anything like that. It was because I hated myself and I took it out on you. I didn't know how to be a father, and the only example I ever had told me that I should hate you and the man I saw you becoming. I think on some level I thought I could stop it and change you."
"You... you knew I was queer?" I questioned; brows furrowed in confusion.
"When you were little you kissed a boy in your class. You said you wanted to marry him. That was my first clue," he chuckled. My jaw hit the floor as memories of the event flooded back to me. I kissed a boy named James during recess in second grade. We talked all about how we were going to get married. My teacher caught us and called our parents. I came to school the next day with a black eye, and to very suspicious teachers. But no one said anything to me, no one wanted to interfere, and from that day on I learned that any feelings I had towards boys were wrong. So I obsessed over girls, chased them around the playground, had a different girlfriend every week for the next decade, all to convince myself that I didn't also like boys.
"I remember now... you beat the shit out of me for it."
"I should have supported you."
"I felt shame for years. If it weren't for meeting Grayson I don't think I ever would have come to terms with myself."
"I'm so glad you did son, in spite of me."
"Everything I am is in spite of you."
"I think you turned out pretty great, Trent. You just have to quit smoking."
"Don't," I scoffed. "Don't think that because we had this conversation that you get to step in and be a parent now and tell me what to do."
"I know you're going to hate me for a very long time."
"Yeah I am."
"I don't expect your forgiveness."
"Good, cause you're not getting it."
"That's okay." He said calmly.
"That's okay?" I questioned.
"Yes. I get it, what I did was unforgiveable. But, I really hope that you don't cut me out of your life completely. Maybe you can bring Grayson over for dinner when I come home?"
"Maybe," was the only reply I could manage.
"Knock, knock," a familiar voice called from behind as he tapped on the doorframe. I turned around to see Ryan entering the room, clipboard in hand.
"Hey Ryan," Dad greeted.
"How are we feeling today?" He asked as he jotted something down on the clipboard.
"Ready to be out of this hospital bed."
"Well you get your wish, we get to go downstairs for some tests."
"I'll stop by tomorrow, Dad." I said as I backed out of the room.
"Bring Grayson, if he's comfortable."
"I will. Bye Ryan," I said as I left the room.
"See you, Trent!" Ryan called after me.
"I love you, son." Dad called. I froze, still in the doorway before storming off.
"You okay?" Grayson asked as we walked out of the hospital, hand-in-hand.
"I think so," I replied.
"Let's go home, love." He smiled as we made our way to my truck. I drove us back to Grayson's house with one hand on the wheel and one clutching a cigarette. I swear, I'm trying to quit. I know how much Gray hates it. I don't want to disappoint him, and I certainly want to be around for a long time for him. But I was particularly stressed, and I needed to calm down. I felt a weight lift off my chest as I took each drag.
I thought about our conversation, about the things my dad said about the way he was raised, the pressures on my parents. They were both just unhappy people, victims of their traditional families. And my dad was just continuing that cycle, passing those beliefs on to me. It almost cost me the happiness I have now with Grayson. I couldn't let that happen. I took one last drag of my cigarette before tossing it out the window. I placed my now free hand in Grayson's and smiled, daring to steal a glance at the beautiful boy next to me. The boy I didn't deserve. The boy who had his own trauma and pain and didn't need to take on any of mine. I wondered what he saw in me. From that night forward, I vowed to become the man he thought I was. I was going to become someone worthy of Grayson Daniels' love.