Page 111 of The Penalty

Breeder: What?

TWENTY-NINE

RHYS

With the intensity of practice ramping up going into the Frozen Four, and the last few games of our season, our time seems more rushed than usual. Strained too, but I can’t put my finger on why.

“Your boyfriend sent me a message last week,” Colin says over lunch.

Because of how busy hockey has become, dinner with them got too hard, so I agreed to meet them for lunch once a week. Oliver is sometimes present, but it’s always Owen, Colin, and Isaac. Since the later two go to school with me, it’s hard to say no.

“Oh? Anything interesting?” I ask, sitting back in my chair.

“I’m pretty sure he was mad at me, but it felt like we were having two different conversations.” Colin pauses, stabbing his salad, his crop top pulled tight across his shoulders.

“That’s a frequent occurrence. Was he drunk? It’s often far worse when he’s drunk.” I pick up my water, wishing Teddy was here. Some days, opposite sides of the city feels like different sides of the planet.

“He might have been. It was pretty late.” Colin flips through his phone. Finally finding what he’s looking for, he flips it around to show me.

I read through the exchange, and I can’t help but smile. He’s defending me. Badly, but I don’t care. I still like it.

“Oliver not coming?” I ask about the elephant in the room at last, tired of having it sitting over my head. This is the second week in a row he’s avoided.

“No, he’s dealing with a lot at work.”

“You didn’t go into work at the family business?”

Owen shakes his head. “No, Oliver was always the one meant for that. I’m the spare.”

“What does that make me?” I ask, not sure I want an answer.

“He obviously wanted you,” Owen says offhandedly, but it hits me right in the chest.

My gaze flashes to his. “What makes you say that?”

“I can only imagine he’s paid off more than one woman to have an abortion. But you are here.”

“Maybe my mother fought for me.” I’m sure she did. As strained as things are with her right now, I knew she wanted me immediately. She’s always said so.

“Sure, that’s possible, but knowing my father, I can’t imagine his indiscretions were solely kept to your mother. Even though he kept seeing her.”

“Which only tells us how he felt about her.”

“But you knew him. He spent time with you?” Owen clearly has been harboring his own questions.

“Yes, although not much,” I answer honestly, not sure how he’ll take it. I don’t know how much time our father spent with them. Would he be jealous?

“I thought so. He wanted you. You wouldn’t be in his will if not. He would have taken his secrets to the grave and left you a pittance if he didn’t care.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I do know it.” Owen falls silent and so does the rest of the table.

I’m not sure how that makes me feel, but pain stabs between my ribs and all of it hurts. Every inch of it. All the parts of me that knew I’d never be one of his real sons. And I still don’t have a place. Maybe I never will.

As we’re saying our goodbyes, I grab Owen. “Is Oliver going to come back to these?”

Owen lifts his shoulders. “Oliver will do what Oliver does. You can’t base your life around his whims. I’d never have been with Colin if I did. He wants the best for all of us, but that doesn’t mean his idea of what’s best works for you.”

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