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Chapter Thirty-Eight

Xavier

I ’m not that drunk.

That’s what I tell myself as I step into the Welsford, blinking against thetoo-brightlights. My brain is workingfine. I’mwalking straight. I’ve got this.

It takes me longer than it should to find the dining room. I barely register the words the hostess says to me. Something aboutmy table waiting. Then she gestures to a server; some guy who looksstupidly professional, and suddenly he’s guiding me through the dining room, hand against my back like I’m some frail, unsteady senior.

I don’t need an escort, but whatever.

The place is packed. Too many eyes, too many whispers. The Rockwell name carries weight here, and I can feel people watching. Judging.

Fuck ’em.

Theempty seat beside Finnis the first thing I notice. He’s been waiting for me.Saved me a spot.His legs are swinging beneath the chair, and when his eyes land on me, they light up.

He’s the only reason I bothered showing up at all.

Downing Seb’s dad’s top-shelf whiskeywas amistake. Animpulsive, reckless, fucking stupid mistake. The kind of thing I don’t do. But my mother showing up—right when things were finallygood—it cut deep. Felt like the last straw. And when I bailed after she preened around in her barely-there bikini in front of my friends in a way I might find humorous if she wasn’t my fucking mother— it felt like sheknewI washappy and couldn’t let that stand. Just had to remind me that no matter how much I pretend or get lost in the idea of being normal, I’m still part of thisbroken, fucked-up family. And there’s nothing I can do to stop that. Or to keep Finn from drowning in that same reality, no matter how hard I try.

I know that’s not the way it happened—that my mother has no clue the way things were starting to change for Finny and me these past few weeks. But that’s how it felt when I stormed out of the house, blood boiling, muscles tense, and so angry I barely said a word the entire drive to Seb’s house.

The drinking seemed like a good way to drown that out.

And it might’ve worked. But then Seb cut me off, "You can’t show up like this, bro. Just crash here, sleep it off."

Which made me look at the time on my phone, and realize I wasalready supposed to be at the Welsford. And bailing on this meal would just prove my parents right—that I’mthe disappointment they expect me to be. More importantly, it would meanleaving Finn alone with them.

I couldn’t do that. So I will fake my way through this. For him.

“Xave’s here!” Finny beams up at me, and I grin back, reaching out to squeeze his sidewhere I know he’s most ticklish. Hesquirms, smiling wider.

Then my gaze lands on Maggie.

She looks horrified.

A second later, her face changes—not horrified anymore. Just… sad.

Before I can make sense of that, my mother catches my eye. She looksannoyed as hell, nails tapping against her wine glass.

My father hasn’t even looked up from his phone yet.

I drop into the chair, and mysilverware clatters to the floorwith an obnoxious metallic echo. "Shit… sorry," I bend down too fast to grab them. The roomtiltsslightly.

The waiter reaches for them, but I brush him off. "S’fine," I say. Possibly too loudly. "I can still use ’em.Five-second rule, right?"

It takes me a moment to register theabsolute silenceat the table.

Finn’s wide-eyed .

Maggie’s napkin sailboat is frozen mid-fold, her hands hovering over the white linen.

My father’s watching me now, jaw lockedso tight, I swear I can hear his teeth grinding.

My mother keeps flicking her eyes around, mortified.

And Maggie… still won’t stoplooking at me. Her face looks pinched and nothing like her usual smiling self, which sucks.

"Xave?" Finn’s voice issmall. "Are you okay?"

I force alazy grin. "M'fine, buddy."

Only I’m starting to think I’m not. That maybe Seb was right. That maybe I’m drunker than I thought.

Maybe showing up was a bad idea.

Shiiit.

I reach for my water glass, but my fingersfumble, knocking it over. Ice skitters across the pristine tablecloth, water spilling toward my father’s sleeve.

"For Christ’s sake," he seethes, dabbing at his suit with a napkin.

The waiterrushes in, too prepared—like he saw this coming. Likeeveryone saw this comingexcept me.

My mother leans in, her voice sharp andviciously controlled. "Xavier James Rockwell,what is wrong with you?"

I blink up at her. "Wrong with me?"

"You’re drunk," my father snaps. His voicecarries weight, a razor’s edge of authority.

I lift a finger. "But I’m here.”

When all that gets me is a glare, I drag a hand through my hair, then glance at Maggie.

"Shit… you look good," I mutter, then my eyes land on her pants.

PTA pants.

I grin.

She doesn’t… And itstings.

"Why would you do this?" my mother says, voice hushed as she leans forward. "I hardly get to see you, and when I do…thisis what you pull?" She presses a hand to herheart, glancing around. " I’m so hurt right now, Xavier. You've hurt my feelings."

I let out abitter laugh. "That’s rich."

My father’s face darkens. His drink hits the table with asharp clink . "You,” he hisses, his face thunderous, "are a disgrace… An utter embarrassment. " The vein in his forehead pulses. He leans forward, voice low. Lethal. "Congratulations on cementing your title as the greatest disappointment in all my eighty-three years."

I hate that his words burn like shame. And that right now, the condition I’m in only proves him right.

"Now pull yourself together," he snaps.

The waiterarrives with dessert. Some kind ofchocolate eclair bullshit in a frame of hazelnuts and some kind of cream.

I don’t want it.

I wantout. Finn’s probably better off without me right now, anyway.

But when I go to stand, my father’s voice cuts through.

"You will sit down," he says coldly, "and you will stay here while we finish our meal."

I freeze.

His gaze iswarning me.Daring meto make a scene.

Icatch Finn’s wide, worried eyes.

Swallow hard.

Force a grin as I fall back into my seat. “Hey—" I motion at Finn's plate "—don't feel bad if you leave those hazelnuts. They look like rabbit poop."

My brother’s giggle bursts out, and the sound eases something in my chest.

For a second, I think showing up was the right call after all.

I catch the attention of a passing waitress. “Yeah, sorry… Can you get me uh… some ice-cream?” I ask. My throat is dryer than a desert. “Like, uh, just vanilla ice-cream or something?”

"Of course, I—"

"No," my father snaps,cutting her off. "Do not bring him anything."

She nods anddisappears so fast, you’d think he threatened her family.

"You embarrassed us all when you stumbled in here like some half-witted delinquent off the street," my father continues. "You will not embarrass usagain. Is that clear?"

My tongue pushes into my bottom lip. I nod. "Clear as your priorities, Sir."

Then my stomach lurches as he leans over and grabs my forearm, jerking me forward. My body goes rigid. The vein in my father’s forehead pulses double-time and his wrinkled knuckles whiten around my tanned skin.

"I will not tolerate this insubordination," he hisses, yanking me with enough force my torso slams into the table's rim, causing everyone's drinks to slosh and ice cubes to rattle in their glasses. And my ribs to scream in protest.

I don’t pull away, even though I’m bigger and ten times stronger than him. Still haven’t figured out why I never do.

But I do glare back, and he’s not used to that.

His eyes flare, the vein in his forehead pulsing again as he speaks through clenched teeth. "You will sit there. Eat the dessert your mother ordered without uttering another word. And when it’s time to leave, Carl will come in and escort you to the car, so that you don’t crash into a potted fern and publicly embarrass us all for a second time this afternoon."

I stare back in silence, chewing on the inside of my cheek. My father yanks on my arm again and I inhale sharply, my hand pushing against my ribs on impulse when the edge of the table digs into me.

"Did your thick, inebriated brain get all of that, or do I need to repeat myself?"

My voice sounds flat when I say, "Think I got it."

I can feel the other diners’ sideways glances, their poorly concealed interest in the family drama playing out in the middle of Sandy Haven’s most prestigious establishment.

Barron releases my arm. "Good. Then we're clear."

I fall back in my chair.

Under the table, Finn reaches out to stroke my leg over the faded denim of my jeans with the tips of his fingers. I slide my hand over his and give it a reassuring squeeze.

I choke down dessert, my stomach twisting .

When it’s time to leave, Irefuseto get in the car with my parents. Carl, our driver,tries to corral me.

I step back. "I’m taking a cab."

Finn pipes up. "I want to go with Xave."

My mother’s face goes pale. People arewatching.

Finn’s on the brink of tears.

Then Maggie’s voicecuts through the chaos. "I have my car here. I can take them home."

I frown, confused.

Maggie’scar? Why does she have her car here? She’sworking.

I open my mouth to ask—

But my stomach lurches.

I stumble outside. Finn calls after me.

Everything is spinning.

The next thing I know, I’mpuking my chocolate hazelnut eclair out behind a bush, berating myself: way to show them I’m not the pathetic disappointment my father accuses me of being…

Then everything goes hazy.