Page 8 of Landon & Shay: Part Two

“What do you want, Landon?” he asked, glaring my way.

“It’s good to see you, too, Dad.”

“I don’t have time for small talk, boy. Get to your reason for being here or leave.”

“I’m here because of Mom. You are really doing a number on her, and I wanted to see if we could come to an arrangement to just get this whole divorce thing over with, without you taking so much from her.”

“Your mother knew what she was getting into when she agreed to marry me. It was all in the prenup she was so willing to sign.”

“Because she loved you, Dad. She signed it because she loved you and wanted to be with you.”

“Yes, well, she should’ve thought that through beforehand. Now she has to deal with the outcome of divorce.”

“She’s barely keeping her head above water with the lawyer bills. Can’t you at least help her with that? Or just call it a done deal? You have enough money to put an end to all of this.”

“I refuse to pay for your mother’s lawyer fees. She is a grown woman and should be able to take care of things on her own. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand the value of savings. She should’ve been working for years instead of looking after you like you were a damn newborn. This is her own doing. There are consequences to life choices, boy, and now your mother has to deal with said consequences.”

“How can you be so harsh? You loved her at some point. You had to if you married her.”

“People change, your mother is a prime example of that fact.”

“What did she do to you?”

He knitted his brows and clasped his hands together. “It’s not what she did to me, Landon. It’s what she did to you. She babied you. She coddled you all your life, making you the way you are.”

“The way I am? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Weak. She made you weak—her and that messed-up brother of hers.”

Every hair on my body stood up as he brought up Lance. I gripped the edges of the chair as my knuckles turned white. “Lance wasn’t messed up. He was sick. He had an illness.”

“Bullshit,” Dad huffed out, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “Your uncle was a child who threw a fit because he couldn’t figure out how to hold down a goddamn job or keep his life together. He was a user and he manipulated your mother with his sob story into taking him into our house. He was the definition of weak, and your mother let him influence you. You should’ve never been allowed to be around that psycho and his issues.”

The words that came out of his mouth made me want to leap across his desk and slug him in the face. Lance wasn’t a psycho because he struggled with his mind. He wasn’t weak because he couldn’t find his footing. How dare my father paint him in such a light? Lance was more of a man than my father could’ve ever been. It just so happened that depression swallowed him whole before he could find his light.

“I mean, look at you, Landon. What the hell are you doing with your life? No college degree. No goals. No future. You’re following directly in the footsteps of that loser, and your mother is leading you there the same way she led him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up six feet under, too.”

Chills raced throughout my body as acid rose up my throat. How could he say that shit? How could he say he wouldn’t be shocked if I ended up dead like Lance?

“I fucking hate you,” I spat out, feeling the rage in my gut building up more and more with each word my father spewed.

How could someone be so cruel?

Not a hint of remorse passed over his face. He didn’t feel bad for his words or even realize he crossed a line.

He seemed almost smug about it, proud that he could see I’d taken a hit from his hurtful way.

Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms. “You hate me because I don’t baby you like your mother does. It’s called tough love, Landon, and someone has to tell you like it is. You’ll never make it in this world without a backbone and thick skin. People will walk all over you, and not everyone will bottle-feed you like your mother. You’re nineteen years old now, and it’s about time you start acting like it.”

“When are you going to start acting your age?” I barked back, gritting my teeth.

“This is my age, Landon. I’m a grown man who handles his business. I get that your mother babies you, and I’m sure you have some people in your life who do the same, but it won’t always be like that. At some point, they’ll grow tired of you and won’t put up with your bullshit ways anymore. There’s a time limit for people caring about your sob story, and believe me when I say it will come quicker than you think it will. At the end of Lance’s life, how many people did he have standing at his tombstone? Pretty much no one. People don’t stick around for folks like Lance, for people like you. So, suck it up, be a man, and change who you are and how you live. Otherwise, you’ll end up alone and sad, living in your mother’s basement.”

“Coming here was a big fucking mistake,” I muttered, standing from the chair. “I forgot what type of person you are.”

He began typing away at his computer, unmoved. “Yes, well. Close the door on your way out.” I started walking away and listened as Dad called after me one last time. “There is one way I will consider paying your mother’s divorce bills.”

“And that is?”

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