It Started With A Wrong Number ✯

21. Past Stories

Hot Lesbian: Guyyysss

Hot Lesbian: I need heeelllppp

Pedo Bear: With what?

Hot Lesbian: Math

Pedo Bear: Ew no

Pedo Bear: Can't help

Hot Lesbian: Guys pls

Salvatore: Sorry, Ciel and I are busy

I raise an eyebrow but don't say anything when Damon shakes his head at me before turning back to the movie.

"Who's 'Hot Lesbian?'" Dad asks, looking at my phone on the coffee table in front of the couch he's sitting on.

I sigh, pausing the movie and making Damon whine. "Harper. Apparently she moved here, she's going to Oakland with us."

"Harper Kindler?" I nod. Dad smiles, "she was nice. Still wild?"

I nod again. "Dad, is it hard to tell she's lesbian or am I just oblivious?"

"You're innocently oblivious," he replies, making me pout. "You notice a lot of things, Skye, but certain things you miss completely."

"Like the fact I hated bullying you," Damon pipes up, wincing

"You just made yourself sad, didn't you," Lucas says, making Damon nod. Lucas ruffles Damon's hair, sighing fondly. "You'll be alright, Skittle. Alright Skye, play the movie, we can talk over this later. I need to know what happens."

With a soft giggle, one that causes Damon to squeal, I press play and the movie continues.

Later, as the four of us sit at the dining table, I remember I wanted to ask Damon something.

"Damon," I say, getting a hum in reply. "You've been vaguely mentioning how your mom hurt you and that you've experienced abuse. If I can ask, what happened?"

I can tell Damon tenses, and I immediately feel guilty. Damon's hand finds Lucas', gripping his fingers for a reassuring comfort.

"It's alright, Ciel," Damon says, seeing my guilty look. "You caught me off guard, that's all... It was around... Grade 3, when I was 7 or 8, I think."

Lucas nods. "Grade 3."

"Madison—the woman who was once my mother—realized I'm gay," Damon continues. "She didn't tell dad, and just started abusing me behind his back. The normal hits and stuff, not letting me eat, burning hot showers..."

Damon shudders as if feeling all the abuse again. Lucas scoots his chair closer to Damon's, putting an arm around his shoulders as Damon takes a deep breath and continues.

"I kept it hidden from everyone. Tried to, at least. Dad started suspecting something was wrong. Nicholai and Aaron did too. Jaxon is an oblivious, self absorbed shit. It was around ten months later Dad purposely came home from work early to see what was going on."

"I walked in on my then-wife kicking my son while he was on the floor crying," Lucas growls, glaring at the table, a scowl on his face. "And he actually looked even more scared when he saw me as if I was gonna hit him too and that was the last fucking straw."

Damon's head rests on Lucas' shoulder, an action that comforts both himself and Lucas. Anyone can see how close they are, like I think father and son should be. Sure I've seen them have disagreements, but they still hold the level of trust where they don't need to be scared of talking about something with each other.

I glance at Dad. I wish I had the same relationship with him. We're working on it, he's trying and I am too, but it'll take time.

"He practically shoved her away from me," Damon continues, head still on Lucas' shoulders. "Picked me up, impatiently listened to Madison's weak explanation, cursed her a few times and took me to the hospital."

"Then I divorced her, and we moved across town to this place," Lucas says, waving a hand around in a gesture to the house. "And if anyone tries to hurt my Skittle again, I will rip them a new one."

Damon smiles, resting a hand over Lucas' hand cupping his (Damon's) cheek. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, Skittle," Lucas replies, making Damon whine at the nickname.

Dad's hand finds mine, squeezing gently. When I look at me, he gives me a smile, leaning over to kiss my forehead lightly. I smile graces my lips, quietly revelling in the feeling of love the action gives.

"Dad?" Damon asks, interrupting the silence. "You've never told how you met Jer."

"I didn't?" Lucas says. "I thought I told you before."

Damon shrugs. "Maybe I just forget. Anyway, answers."

Lucas rolls his eyes, and after glancing at Dad and I to see we both don't mind hearing it, he sighs softly and says, "two and a half years or so ago, Miah came in to the hospital. Ah, severe strep throat, wasn't it?"

Dad nods.

"I remember that," I say, making everyone look to me. I blush at the attention, not used to it. I look to Dad, "you got me sick."

Dad nods again, smiling fondly. "You didn't let me hear the end of it with your complaining."

"Anyway," Lucas continues, "we just sort of clicked. We would text, meet when we could... And I found myself falling in love with him. Then we had a big argument when I find out I'm being 'the other man' and he was married."

Dad winces, a guilty and ashamed look coming over his face. "I'd fallen out of love with Rose. I... Never did love her as much as I think most other couples love each other, but my parents kept pressuring me to marry her until I caved. I cared about her, a lot, but I saw her as more of a friend. And I wanted to do something for my own happiness, and don't get me wrong, Skye is the best thing in my life, but there wasn't much for me there. I thought you would be safe and happy there, Skye, no need to uproot you from your happy life for my own selfish desires.

"I found the love I've always wanted in Lucas, so I divorced Rose and left," Dad says, voice soft. "I feel bad about the way I did it, I always will, but I can't bring myself to regret it."

"Why didn't you at least contact me?" I whisper after  a short silence.

Dad grimaces avoids my gaze, so Lucas answers for him. "He thought you would hate him for being bi, being with a man. I tried convincing him otherwise, but he wouldn't listen until a few weeks ago, when he started considering it."

"I decided to walk past your favourite spot as I thought about it," Dad murmurs. "That's how I found you, Skye."

"Right on time too," Damon says, giving me a smile. "I don't want Ciel to leave yet."

"Me neither," Dad says, hand squeezing mine gently.

I smile softly. This is the kind of love I missed having.