Chapter Forty-Six (Pt.2)

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Carter considered staying silent when he heard a knock on his door.

He waited too long to say something and whoever was on the other side knocked again, before the doorknob turned. Carter didn't know whose voice he expected to hear, but it certainly wasn't Tony's.

"Can I come in?"

He bit his lip, sitting up against the headboard of his bead.

"It's your house," he said, a little raucously. He couldn't be too sure his eyes weren't a little red either. Not from crying, but from holding in the tears. Most of it had welled painfully in his throat, but he could still feel some in his eyes, threatening to pour.

"Yours too," Tony said, as he came in.

Carter averted his gaze as his stepfather closed the door and walked toward him.

"Can I sit?"

Carter just nodded wordlessly, feeling his mattress dip slightly with the new weight by the foot of the bed.

"Just wanted to check if you're okay," Tony said.

Carter nodded again, feeling the lump in his throat swell, as though accusing him of being a liar.

"I though you might get hungry soon, so I saved you your dinner. It's in the fridge."

"Thanks," Carter said, finally meeting his eyes with a weak, clipped smile. He appreciated the gesture, despite everything. He doubted he'd take advantage of it though. His stomach was in knots. Eating was the last thing on his mind.

Tony sighed audibly. "You know your mom loves you, right?"

Carter bit his lip at his words. He knew that. But...

"Why did she leave?" He asked quietly.

"I think she wasn't expecting it... None of us were," Tony admitted.

Carter lowered his head to break the eye contact, drawing his knees up to his chest.

"But," Tony started slowly, "I also want to let you know that what you told us downstairs is not a bomb. We weren't expecting it, but it's not a bomb. It changes absolutely nothing in the way we see you." Carter lifted his head a little to see Tony's eyes had never left him. His stepfather smiled softly, as he added, "And I'm sure it changes absolutely nothing in the way your mother loves you and how proud she is of you."

Then, why didn't she stay? Why didn't she say something?

"She is proud of you, Carter," Tony asserted, as though he could read the questions flooding Carter's mind. "You have to know how much. You're the pride of her life. Anyone can tell."

"Am I?" Carter asked, shakily.

"Yes. Without a doubt," Tony answered, without missing a beat. He put one hand over Carter's sheets, leaning slightly toward him. "I know I'm not your dad, and maybe you don't really see our relationship as anything more than a complex landlord-slash-roommate situation, but I'm also proud of you."

For some reason, those words paired with the weight of those dark ebony-brown eyes on him made Carter shift a little, twiddling with his fingers over his knees. If Tony noticed, he didn't show it.

"It can't have been easy to go through the change you did," Tony continued softly. "I love my family to death, my children are my everything, but they are a lot. I know that, I live with them too. And the way you made an effort to fit in here and make this arrangement work speaks volumes of the love you have for your mother. And the person you are."

Unshed tears pressed against his windpipe and Carter felt an unauthorized warm tear roll down his cheek.

"I didn't expect her to act like nothing changed," he spoke through a strained throat, "but I at least expected her to say something. Anything."

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