Trial Day Twenty-Four.
Todayâs heavy dose of sedatives came courtesy of Jack Daniels. (Eli, asshole that he was, hid the Macallan two nights ago in hopes that I wouldnât lower myself to the bottom shelf stuff.)
I didnât normally seek solace in alcohol, but I needed it to stop me from doing something drastic like ditching my responsibilities and moving to LA with Briar.
The fog lifted from my brain long enough for me to register the thump-thump of shoes thudding across my carpet. A cap-toed Oxford entered my line of vision, mingling with the empty bottles of whiskey around me.
âChrist, Oliver.â
I blinked up at him from my spot on the floor, my cheek still smashed against the rug. âDad?â
This had to be a hallucination. He hadnât entered this building in over fifteen years.
âUnfortunately.â He waved a hand across his scrunched-up nose, a vintage guilloche Patek winking at me from his wrist. âQuite frankly, Oliver, Iâm ashamed to admit I had a part in creating â¦â He nudged my ankle with his toe. â⦠this.â
âWhy are you here?â
And why are you wearing a suit?
The closest heâd gotten to one in the past fifteen years was his birthday suit. And only because showers required those.
He lifted my arm over his shoulder and hauled me up, discarding me onto the leather chair behind my desk. âSebastian sent me.â
That couldnât be right. He still held a grudge over the plastic surgery incident. Iâd spent our last three Days of Our Lives binges in silence, nursing a bottle of booze as he gaped over the devil possessing Marlena without me. On some unspoken agreement, we refused to acknowledge one anotherâs existence, save for Sebastian retching whenever I passed.
Now I knew Iâd hallucinated my dad.
I slumped against the leather backrest, aware my office â usually pristine and orderly â resembled a battlefield. Loose paper scattered across the mahogany desk, some tumbling to the carpet. The partially drawn blinds casted shadows over the room in dizzying slats.
Was this normal? I tried to remember the states Romeo and Zach had been reduced to during their separations from their wives. Romeo lasted three days. Zach lasted thirty. Neither achieved it sober.
Dad began piling empty bottles into a trash bag. âAre you ignoring me?â
âAre you really even here?â
âExcuse me?â
âWhere did Eli go?â
âTo plant a tree for you to hug. His words, not mine. You let him speak to you like that?â
I wasnât exactly in a state to protest. I couldnât muster the energy to fight him. Neither could a wild boar, for that matter.
âYou hired him,â I pointed out.
âTo get your ass into shape. Look how that turned out.â Dad tied the trash bag with a double knot, conjured another, and move on to the bottles stacked near the windows. âI wouldnât have come if Sebastian didnât send me. He never asks for anything, so I knew it was serious.â
I undid the top button of my dress shirt and loosened my tie, wondering how well it would hold up as a noose. âWhy couldnât I hallucinate someone hotter?â
âItâs Briar, isnât it? If you miss her, follow her. Iâll hold down the fort.â
The second her name sliced past his lips like a dagger, everything faded. The click-clack of keyboards outside. The low murmur of conversations between my staff. Dadâs disbelieving grunts each time he unearthed a new stash of bottles. Vanished.
I didnât even hear any of his words past her name.
My fingertips itched to turn over the photo lying face-down on my desk. Eli had smacked it down weeks ago, and I never bothered flipping it back over, afraid Iâd hop onto a plane at the sight of Briarâs toothy grin and crash her movie set.
Unfortunately, I needed to prove to her that I could handle a long-distance relationship. And even more unfortunate, it seemed I couldnât.
âGo home, Oliver. Get some rest. Pull yourself together.â Dad rubbed my back in big circles, the first comforting touch heâd offered in almost sixteen years. âLay off the booze.â
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to focus. âThatâs rich coming from you.â
âYouâre right, and Iâm sorry.â He kneeled before me, catching my eyes beneath my disheveled hair. âIâm sorry I havenât been around since your brotherâs accident. Iâm sorry you had to take on so much responsibility. And Iâm sorry your mom and I never stopped to ask if you were okay.â
âWhere is this coming from?â I shook my head, unable to form basic coherent thoughts. This felt important. Monumental, even. But my brain â and body â failed me.
The room spun, colors and shapes blending into a dizzying kaleidoscope. I knew Iâd forget this conversation in an hour. And worse â that Iâd hallucinated the whole thing. But it mustâve come to me for a reason. Maybe somewhere, deep down, I needed to hear this.
âYour brother smacked some sense into me last night.â
âSebastian did?â
âHe FaceTimed me. Forced me to stare him right in the eyes as he told me that I failed both of you. That it was my duty as your father to help you two navigate our new world, and I failed.â Hallucinated Dad sighed, raking a hand through his graying hair. âLet me pass your brotherâs advice onto you, son. Sometimes things that never happened haunt you more than the things that did. Donât live with regret, Oliver.â
A nauseating ache rose from somewhere I thought had healed.
I groaned into my desk. âThis hallucination sounds an awful lot like an intervention.â
Dad gathered my hands together, laughing into my fists. âOllie?
âYeah, Dad?â
âI know weâre awful at showing it, but your mom and I love you.â
The room descended into heavy silence.
I remembered the last time Iâd heard those words. Twenty-five days ago. From Briar.
The only woman capable of doing what no corporate rival ever could.
Break me.