Page 135 of The Prodigal Son

Anger brews inside me. This little dance he’s doing, traipsing around the topic he doesn’t want to face, is pissing me off.

Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees and glare at him. “You know why this happened, don’t you? You know what his mother did to him? She put him in fucking conversion therapy when he was just a kid. They taught him to hate himself. A local program calledEternal Harmony.You’ve heard of it, I’m sure.”

Truett fidgets in his seat, avoiding my scrutiny.

“Don’t sit there and pretend I wouldn’t have ended up in the same place,” I mutter indignantly.

His head snaps in my direction. “You seriously think I would have done that to you?”

My jaw drops. “Yes, I do. When I came out, you slapped me across the face. Remember that?”

There’s a tic in his jaw as he looks away.

“I told you I was gay, and you tried to tell me I wasn’t. You waved a Bible in my face and told me I’d go to hell. Don’t act like you are better than them.”

There’s a wild fury in his eyes as he stares back at me. “I was terrified, Isaac.”

I let out a huffing sound of shock. “Youwere terrified? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Yes, I was terrified,” he argues. “I knew what you would face. I knew what the world would do to you, but I never oncethought of sending you away. All this time, you’ve been mad at me for something I didn’t even do.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die on my lips. What’s the point? What is the point anymore of telling men like him or people like Jensen’s mom that children shouldn’t need protection from their own parents? They are the ones who are supposed to protect us, not change us.

He clears his throat as he looks away. “I had a stroke in prison,” he mumbles. My eyes widen, but I try not to show it. “I’m not telling you that for your condolences…”

“Okay…” I mutter.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ve got left, and it’s made me realize just how bad I was. How much I hurt you kids.”

“You’re realizing thisnow?”

“I’d like to do something better with the time I have left,” he replies before he starts coughing. I hear the rattle in his chest. “Especially for you. I want to make it right.”

Truett’s eyes grow moist, and suddenly, I’m hit by a revelation like lightning. I see him in a totally new light. I see a man in desperation, and it makes everything make sense all at once.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. My entire childhood replays in front of me like a slow-motion reel, and it all makes perfect sense. The sound of pride in his voice when he spoke to me. The smiles he saved just for me. The way he’d bounce me on his knee while the music played. Being the baby of the family, I always sensed a hint of favoritism from everyone. But now…I realize it was mostly from him.

He quickly blinks his tears away as he stares at me. “What?”

“I think I just figured it all out.”

“Figured what out?”

“That you really loved me. Didn’t you? Maybe the most.”

He shifts in his seat, his eyes growing wet again. This time, he doesn’t bother to blink or wipe them away. I’ve never seen him cry once in my entire life.

“And if that’s true,” I continue, putting the pieces together in my mind. “Then that means…it tore you up when I left. Maybe even broke your heart. That’s when you went off the rails, wasn’t it? That’s when you started sabotaging your own life. You lost your little boy.”

He flicks a tear off his cheek as he stares at the cold and empty fireplace. Sitting in this room, I remember the night my mom set up a makeshift stage right over there. I remember standing behind the curtain, feeling like the most special kid in the entire world because my dad was cheering for me. That pride I felt when he smiled at me, shouted my name, called me his boy…that feeling never left. That feeling…created me.

“I did all of it for you, you know? My music, my career, the fame.”

He glances up, looking a little shocked.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” I say. “That was all I ever wanted. If you had just supported me. Protected me. Maybe I never would have left. And honestly, Dad, I’m not mad at you. Unlike my brothers, I don’t hate you. In fact…”

I raise my head and level my gaze in his direction. “I pity you.”

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