Page 73 of Late Nights

“I’m confused about what you’re talking about,” I confessed.

“Demi,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh. Oh! I sat up straighter as realization dawned on me. He had known I had been talking about Demi.

Did that mean everyone knew I’d been talking about her? I mean, I assumed she had known I was talking about her, since she knew there was no one else in my life. And okay, Halle probably knew too. And probably West too, come to think of it. Maybe I hadn’t been as incognito as I had thought. Did that mean Victor knew too? My mind whirled at the idea of him saying all those things to me with full knowledge I was referring to his daughter.

“Are we on the same page yet?” my grandfather asked. He must have seen all my thoughts cross my face.

“Yes, we’re on the same page,” I said, bringing myself back to the conversation. “How did you know?”

He scoffed. “Give me a little credit for knowing when my grandson is interested in a woman. I’ve noticed for years. Always wondered if you were going to do anything about it. Then when you told me she had moved in with you temporarily, I figured it would fast-track things.”

I looked at him, feeling like I didn’t know him as well as I had thought. “But you never said anything.”

“Of course I didn’t. You weren’t ready. And I knew it would need to be on your own terms,” he said. “Plus, there was that Aiden kid always buzzing around like an annoying fly,” he added with distaste.

“Yeah, I wasn’t his biggest fan.”

“That’s an understatement,” he huffed. “Last time I saw you two in the same room, I was worried you were going to punch him for no reason.”

“I wasn’t that obvious,” I argued. “And it wouldn’t have been for no reason. His eyes kept wandering around the room, lingering on other women when he had the most beautiful and amazing woman on his arm. He didn’t deserve her.”

“No, he definitely didn’t,” he agreed. “But do you think you deserve her?”

His question caught me off-guard. Did I think I deserved a woman as good as Demi? Hell, no.

I leaned my elbows on my thighs, clasping my hands together as I looked down, the feeling of defeat running through me. “No, sir.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

My head popped up. “What?”

“Cannon, my boy, you’re thinking about this all wrong,” he started. “You care about her, more than you might be willing to admit right now, and I know she cares for you too. I’ve watched her fall for you too, over the years. I know you’d never want to hurt her, that you would take care of her to the best of your ability. How is that not deserving?”

I swallowed. “I don’t know how to not hurt her. I don’t know how to take care of her. I don’t have any experience with love. Even my own parents didn’t…” I stopped, looking away. I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t say out loud that my parents had never loved me.

“What your parents did was horrible. They treated you awfully, and no child should ever have to go through what you’ve experienced,” he said softly. “But you’re not with them anymore. You haven’t been for almost fifteen years. I’ve tried to care for you the best I could, and I know I’m not open about my love, but I do love you, Cannon. You are worthy of love and happiness. Stop letting your parents have so much power in your life now. Take control of your life, your mind, and let the past go.”

I sat there in shock. What he’d said was direct and painfully true. But the thing that had me sitting in stunned silence was the part where he’d said he loved me. He’d never told me that before, and I’d never said it to him either.

I worked to swallow down my emotions. “I love you too.”

“I know.” He smiled and then stood. “Now give me a hug. There’s only so much of this feelings stuff I can handle.”

I chuckled, standing to give him a hug.

“I’ve always been proud of you. Proud to call you my grandson.” He stepped back, ending our hug, which I think was only the third time he’d ever hugged me. “You’re a good man. Remember that.”

“Yes, sir.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Walk me back in, and then I can say my goodbyes.”

We made our way back inside, and my grandfather said goodbye to everyone before getting in his car and driving away.

I watched as his taillights disappeared, thinking about the conversation we’d had in the backyard. It had been short, brief. But it was the deepest conversation we’d ever had. I had always been pretty sure my grandfather loved me, but hearing it was an entirely different experience. No one had ever told me they loved me before.

I stayed in that thought for a moment. Looking back at the large house behind me, where my fill-in family waited for me to come back, a sense of gratitude poured over me. I didn’t know where I would be today if it weren’t for my grandfather and the Vanderhalls.

---