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With that, I leave my father’s office to find his receptionist pursing her lips in a smirk. I roll my eyes and walk out of his office with my head held high and shoulders back. I’m not going to let him embarrass me. He’s the one who should be embarrassed about how he treats his own son. I’ve always worked hard to make him proud. I’ve always done everything he’s asked for. He will never be happy, nothing will ever be good enough. But I put up with it time and time again because I don’t have anything other than this. My career is everything.Until Carter.

Not wanting to spend a moment longer than I have to here, I take a deep breath as I push open the large glass doors, inhaling the fresh air. Once I’m in my car, feeling more alone than I ever have before, I know I need to talk to Carter. It’s all I want right now. Taking a chance, I pull out my phone and send off a text, not giving a shit how desperate I sound.

Me: Please give me a chance to explain.

“C’mon, Carter, please answer me.” I bounce my leg anxiously, wishing like hell he would just let me explain everything. Something I should have done the moment I realized he was giving in to what we have. Miscommunication is the death of everything, but fear held me back from doing what was rightby telling him when I had the opportunity. When he doesn’t respond, I send another one.

Me: I miss you

I don’t know how long I stare at the screen, willing him to reply, even if he tells me to fuck off, I just want to see those three little dots appear. But they never come.

I spend the next three days sleeping on and off, drinking too much whiskey, sick to my stomach, and not finding clarity. My phone goes off, and I’m desperate enough to hear from Carter that I snatch it off the coffee table with shaky fingers. My body deflates when I see that it’s from Trey.

Trey: Dude this is not okay. Don’t ice me out

Trey: I’ll come by and you don’t want that

Me: I don’t want company

Trey: Well look who it is. Glad to know you’re alive

Me: You’re a shit friend if you thought I was dead and you’re texting me instead of coming by

Trey: Fuck off. I’m coming by

Me: No. I changed the locks

Trey: The fuck you didasshole

Me: I’m fine man. I just want some quiet. I’ll check back in later

I toss my phone back onto the table, take more than a few long pulls from the whiskey bottle, and throw my arm over my eyes. I doze off at some point and wake to the telltale click of the lock of my front door. Hard footfalls bring the intruder closer and closer, but I don’t bother moving, too drunk to give a shit, and hoping maybe he’ll just leave. Or better yet, put me out of my misery.

“God damn, it reeks like old cheese and tuna that’s been left to bake in the sun.”

“Fuuuck you, no it doesn’t,” I mumble, my words slurred.

“This is worse than I thought it would be. Shit, haven’t seen you like this before, not even after Nick.”

“Why are you here, Trey?”

“Cause I’m in too deep, asshole. You’re my best friend, and I’m not gonna let you drown yourself in alcohol and sorrows. You’re better than that. Plus, you know too much, and training a new best friend would take too long, so I’ve gotta keep you alive.”

“Fuck off!”

“Damn, how much have you been drinking? Your liver is not going to be happy with you. C’mon, time to get up.”

I groan as Trey grabs my shoulders to forcibly sit me up on the couch, the room swaying and spinning like a motherfucker.

“If you puke on me, we’re gonna have issues. I’m making you some coffee, then your ass is getting in the shower, ’cause I wasn’t lying, your ass reeks dude.”

“Just leave. You’ve got better things to do than deal with my shit.”

“The fuck I do. I don’t know what your dad said this time,but it’s not true, Finn. You’re deserving of love, you’re deserving of friendship, you’re the best kind of man there is out there, you were just born to shit parents, and you don’t know how to break the cycle. Do you hear me?”

His words open up the dam that I’ve been holding back, the tears flowing freely from my eyes. I’ve spent so long trying to be good enough for everyone around me, and the emotional and mental damage inflicted by my dad is to blame.

“Shit, man, it’s gonna be okay.” Trey sits next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me into him while I cry it out. “Let’s get you sobered up and then we’re gonna get shit figured out. This isn’t how your story ends, bro.” My best friend holds me while I lean onto his shoulder, sobbing and wishing like hell I could get through this. I’m lucky to have him in my life—at least I’ve got this.