Page 67 of Finding Grey
“You never had any idea what was at stake back then,” he growled, his body vibrating with anger. “I sank everything we had, and a lot more besides, into the record label I createdfor you.” He jabbed a finger in my direction as he spoke. “If I’d failed to turn you into a star, we would have been destitute. You didn’t know that because I wanted to protect you, but I knew every second of every day. I could not afford to let you ruin everything because you were going through some phase.”
I groaned in frustration. “It was not a phase.”
“I didn’t know that!” he shouted back.
We stared at each other in silence for a while, before I asked, “What about five years ago, when I tried to meet up with Sean again and you stopped it from happening?” His eyes slid closed and his jaw clenched in frustration. “Sean told me you spoke to him, that you lied about where I was and who I was with. Surely, I’d earned enough by then to give you a good return on your investment. Was it still not enough to buy me the right to my own happiness?”
“You were about to leave the country on a gruelling five-month tour. I needed you focused on your work.”
“And I couldn’t do both?” I argued. “I wasn’t planning to run away with him, I only wanted to see him. Why did you have such a problem with that?”
At first, I thought he’d give me a real answer, but instead he fell back on the usual excuse. “I was taking care of your career. I did what needed to be done.”
“Not anymore,” I insisted. “It’s my turn to decide what I need. This album is the best of me. It’s the real me, and if people don’t like who I am, I no longer care.” I released a relieved sigh as I realised it was true. People could say whatever the hell they wanted. As long as I had Sean by my side, none of it mattered. “What I need to do right now is finish this album,” I added, “and I would like your support. If not as my manager, then as my father.”
He turned away for a moment, and when he faced me again his mouth had set into a grim line. “Fine. Produce the album however you want. I’ll release it. Hell, I’ll promote the crap out of it. We’ll see what happens.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
Silence lengthened between us, before he asked, “Will you be touring?” At my nod, he added, “What about Sean? You think he’ll wait for you?”
“I’m hoping he’ll come with me.” Sean had yet to give me an answer either way, but I still had hope. That he wanted to come with me. That he would grow to love me the way I loved him. I couldn’t be sure of anything at this point, but nor could I allow Roger to see my doubts. I didn’t want him to scent blood.
“I suppose I’ll go back to Melbourne,” he declared. “You hardly need me here looking over your shoulder.”
“When will you leave?” I asked.
“Tomorrow morning, I suppose, assuming I can get a flight.” Another pause followed, as if Roger wanted to say more, but couldn’t decide which words to use. In my entire life, I’d never once seen him struggle to express himself. It was disconcerting. When he finally spoke, the usual gruffness was underpinned by a sense of resignation I didn’t understand. “I’m aware I haven’t been the perfect father, Dante. I’ve done things I’m not proud of in order to ensure your success. But I did everything for you. Because I believed I was doing what was best for you. You’re my only child, and I love you. Remember that.”
I frowned at the obscure nature of his words but nodded anyway. We hadn’t always gotten along, and he’d interfered in my life in ways I found difficult to forgive, but I believed him when he said he loved me. Beneath the resentment and old hurts, I loved him back.
“I believe this calls for a drink,” I suggested. “We’ve earned it.”
Roger made a noise of agreement. “Make it a double.”
Grinning, I clapped him on the back as we headed inside. Perhaps this new kind of life I was embarking on could be a fresh start for us as well.