His Secret

58. Adrian

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

ADRIAN

I get to Chicago around two o’clock on Wednesday afternoon. I rent a car from the airport and drive sixteen miles to get to my parents’ house in Winnetka.

In the driveway of their four-million-dollar home, I sit in the car and try to breathe. After today, I tell myself I’ll never have to deal with them again. I’ll never have to have this conversation again either.

Once I walk up the stairs, I ring the bell and wait. My father is the one who opens the door.

After a couple seconds, he says, “Come in. Let’s talk before your mother gets here.”

“I’d really rather talk to everyone at once. Are David and Charlotte coming?”

“Not that I know of.”

I sigh and follow him through the expansive foyer and into his study. He makes his way to the mini bar and pours himself a drink before finding his way to the couch.

“Sit, Adrian.”

“I think I’ll stand,” I tell him, simply because I don’t want him to think he can still boss me around .

He gives me a look but doesn’t fight me on it.

“I see you’ve made your choice.”

“I have.”

He takes a sip of his drink, staring out the window to his right, then starts talking.

“I know you think I’ve been harsh on you.” I have to bite my tongue to keep from arguing already. “My father was strict. Overbearing. Whatever you want to call it. It’s how I grew up. He seemed to only pass on his negative traits to me. I knew not to go against the grain in his house, because he wasn’t afraid to get physical.”

Dad stands up and walks to the window now, avoiding looking at me. “We sometimes regurgitate the things we hear or see. I’m not going to blame my father for the things I said to you, because I believe there’s a part of me that actually felt that way. However, they were also things my own father told me.”

I swallow, wondering what he’s talking about. He’s never said much about his dad. We hardly knew the man. He lives in Connecticut, but there was a time when me and Amelia were children that he’d come around with Grandma. When she died, the visits slowed dramatically, and we never spoke on the phone.

Dad comes back to the couch, eyes on me. I decide to sit in the chair to his left.

“I loved someone else before I met your mother. She doesn’t know, nor does she need to, but that’s the truth. For the first two years of college, I believed I had met my wife. I was hopelessly in love. Blinded by it, in fact. Whatever she wanted, I gave to her. If she wanted to do something, I’d do it, even if it was outside my comfort zone. She had me pushing the envelope at every turn. It was fun. I was alive and thriving. I had never known a life like that, because my home life was very restricted.” He sighs. “Anyway, my grades started dropping and my father wasn’t happy about it. I was doing things I’d never done before—drugs, drinking, skipping class. It was all in good fun, I thought. The typical college experience.

“My dad wanted me to be a lawyer. Did I ever tell you that?”

I shake my head, curious about the change in direction. “He had his own practice, didn’t he?”

“He did,” he says with a nod. “He didn’t think I was doing enough to be successful. I needed to stop focusing on girls and only worry about my school work. Suffice it to say, I did not go into law. Much to his chagrin. But I only came to that conclusion after breaking up with Charleen. The truth of the matter is, she probably wasn’t what was best for me. I was young and finally living life outside of my parents’ house. I was doing things that didn’t align with who I knew I was, but I didn’t realize that right away. Sometimes we don’t listen to our parents, simply because they’re our parents. We want to rebel and fight, and believe that they don’t know what they’re talking about, but later, you’ll come to find out that they had a lot of truth to offer.”

“Are you saying?—”

He holds his hand up to stop me. “I believed you were doing the same at first. You were allowing the freedom of being out of my house to drive you to do things you’d never thought about—things that weren’t who you were at your core. I also had this need for you to work for me simply as a fuck you to my father. I wanted him to see that he couldn’t get me to work for him, but I would have my own son work for me. I wanted him to see that I succeeded where he failed, because he always thought of me as a failure. I definitely allowed my own problems to interfere with my relationship with you. I see that now. I suppose blindness isn’t always related to romantic relationships. You can be blinded by fear, revenge, rage, and spite. I was selfish. I wanted to bend you at my will for my own reasons, and I used language and threats in an attempt to get what I wanted from you. I didn’t see that I was my own father until recently.

“Now, don’t get me wrong, I still think you’d be a great CEO, and I want you to take over the company when I’m done, but if that’s not your dream, then what can I do?” he questions with a shrug. “I didn’t do what my father wanted either, so I suppose this is karma.”

Everything he’s just said swims around in my head, trying to find a landing place in my brain, but there’s one thing he hasn’t mentioned.

“And forcing me to marry Charlotte? What was your reasoning for that?”

He sighs. “You were alone and seemed unhappy. The main reason for getting you two together was mostly for her. David needed her to get on the right track, and she needed help, so I thought I was doing some good by bringing you two together. I thought you were perhaps into both men and women.”

“Did David ever think that maybe he was responsible for his own daughter? That he and his wife should’ve been the ones supporting and helping her?”

He shakes his head. “No. They were never involved with her. I don’t think it ever crossed his mind to pay her any extra attention.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if he had done so, she wouldn’t have taken that particular journey.”

“Maybe. ”

“I’m not bisexual, Dad,” I tell him. “I know I told you it was nothing. I told you I could be with women, but I only said that because I was afraid. I wanted to convince you I was something I was not. I didn’t want you to ruin Matías’s life in order to keep me in line, so I said what was needed. And honestly, regardless of what your own father did or said to you, it doesn’t excuse your clear case of homophobia.”

“I was more concerned that you were going to throw your life away over someone who wouldn’t be in it forever.”

“Why would I be throwing my life away by being gay?”

“I didn’t think that you were!” he shouts, putting his glass down. “I thought you were just messing around. I didn’t want the effects of this new and different thing to distract you from the life I wanted for you.”

“I can’t be gay and run a company? My gayness would keep me from making smart business decisions? Who I have in my bed means I suddenly don't know anything about work?”

“Look, I don’t understand it, okay? I just don’t.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You can’t have kids. The Kennedy name ends with you. Who will the company go to then?”

“Oh, my god,” I exclaim. “Gay people can have kids if they want to. Do I really need to educate you on adoption or surrogacy? And I won’t force my kid to do anything he or she doesn't want to. At some point, this ugly cycle has to end. Your father wanted something for you, and you went against it only to try to force me into your own dreams. What happened? I rebelled. I moved to a different state to get away from you. I will not push my kid away by forcing them into a life they don’t want.”

He exhales, pacing around before coming to a stop and looking at me. “I’m just trying to say that I’m beginning to understand. I see what I didn’t see before. How I was exactly who I tried so hard to get away from. I went about things the wrong way. You clearly…like this person a lot. To do what you did. To end your marriage over him.”

I run a hand over my forehead. “I didn’t end it over him. Yes, I cheated, but I was cheated out of a lot of life experiences because of you, and my marriage ended because I’m finally ready to live my truth. I’m finally out from under you. I don’t need your money or job offers. I’m not afraid of you anymore.” He blanches. “I more than like him, Dad, and you can deal with that or not. I no longer care. Tell David what you want. Tell Mom the same. I’m going to get my car from Charlotte, and tell her that I hope to be her friend. I will always be there for her, but not as a husband.”

I turn to leave and find my mother stepping into the doorway, a look of shock and sadness on her face. Her eyes flicker to Dad before landing back on my face.

She gives me the tiniest smile, but it’s tinged in despair. “Hi, honey,” she says softly. “I heard, well, most everything.”

I inhale deeply and force myself to stare into her eyes. “I came here to tell you both.”

She looks at my father again. “Yes, well, I guess I was late.”

“It’s my fault. I started talking to him about some stuff,” my dad says. “It spiraled.”

“Hmm.” She walks forward and holds my wrists. “I can’t take back how I made you feel growing up. Nor can I change the way others made you feel.” She slides her hand into mine and squeezes gently. “I can’t erase the words of the past, but together, maybe we can write a new path forward, because if it’s the rest of my life without you or a life that involves you and any man you choose to spend it with, I want the latter.”

Tears burn my eyes as I look down at her. She’s never been a warm or nurturing person, and she’s still not. Her words held almost no emotion, but they were clear and concise. She chooses me.

I nod, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “We’ll talk later.”

“Okay.”

I flee the house before emotions take hold.