Chapter 59: Breakaway: Chapter 59

“I DON’T LIKE IT.”

I give Seb a sideways glance as I knock more snow off the windshield of my truck. “You don’t have to like it.”

“There’s a reason he isn’t—”

“Yeah,” I interrupt. “That reason is Dad being a judgmental asshole. He’s trying his best, and he’s doing well. If Dad refuses to see that, then that’s his loss.”

“It just seems weird.” Seb kicks at a chunk of snow, sending it across the driveway. “He’s out of our lives for years, and then suddenly he’s back? Why now?”

I work my jaw as I finish clearing the windshield. I know Sebastian has only met Uncle Blake a few times, and he’s nowhere near as close to him as I am, but some support would be nice.

“It’s hard,” I say as I toss the ice scraper into the truck. “I can’t imagine how fucking hard it must be to get sober and stay sober if you’re an addict. He’s here, and he wants to be family. If you came to lunch, you’d see that.”

Seb glances at the house. “Fine. But let’s take Izzy along too.”

We have to wait another half an hour for Izzy to get ready, but eventually we meet Uncle Blake at a lunch place downtown. He’s there already, sipping on a soda while he reads something on his phone. He stands to clap my back, then pulls Izzy into a hug.

“No way,” he says. “Isabelle, you’ve grown up so much.”

Izzy tucks her hair behind her ear. “Hey, Uncle Blake.”

“You still playing volleyball?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m on McKee’s team. Season is over, though.”

“Still got that wicked serve?”

She laughs. “What do you think?”

“Atta girl. What about you, Sebastian?”

“Baseball season starts up soon,” Sebastian says. He leans away from Uncle Blake when he reaches out to clap a hand on his shoulder. I just barely manage to not roll my eyes. You’d think I invited him to tag along to lunch with a random stranger off the street, not our relative. “I’m good.”

“Good, good.”

The server comes around and we order. Uncle Blake settles back in his chair, considering the three of us.

“I can’t believe how much you look like Dad,” Izzy blurts.

“Handsomer, though,” he says with a grin. “And with less of a stick up my ass.”

“What are you doing back in New York?” Seb asks. “Coop says you’re here for good.”

“Yes.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I’m working on finding a place.”

“What about a job?”

“Sebastian,” I snap.

Seb just keeps staring at Uncle Blake. “I don’t even know what you do.”

Uncle Blake scrubs his hand over his jaw. He shaved, so I get what Izzy means; without the beard, he looks just like Dad, except a couple years younger. “I have a few things in the works.”

“Like what?”

“Sebastian, seriously, shut the fuck up.”

Izzy widens her eyes at my sharp tone. I can’t help myself, though. I have no idea what Uncle Blake is doing now, but I don’t care. He could work as a dishwasher, and I wouldn’t give a shit—the important thing is that he’s here, and he’s trying.

“It’s fine, Cooper,” he says. He leans over the table, settling his elbows on the top. “It’s a fair question. I used to work in finance. In the city. When I was in California, I helped develop several businesses.”

“And what? You’re going back to Wall Street?”

“I’m working on it.” He glances over at me. “I have… some debts, though, from rehab. A good treatment center isn’t cheap, and your father refused to help.”

Sebastian scowls. “He didn’t have to.”

“No,” he agrees. “But he helped in the past, just not this time. Not the time that really stuck.”

“Sounds like him,” I say.

Sebastian snorts. “Sure. This time is different, right?”

Uncle Blake looks to Seb, who crosses his arms over his chest. “Maybe we should talk about this in private, Cooper.”

“No,” Seb says. “Whatever you’re going to say to him, you can say to us, too.”

I stand, sending my chair skidding backwards. “I should have known it was a fucking mistake to bring you. Let’s go outside.”

Sebastian stands too. “Jesus, Cooper. Use your head.”

“No.” I take off my baseball cap and run my hand through my hair. The people at the next table are looking at us, but I can’t bring myself to care. “I would have expected this from Dad, but it’s really fucking shitty to be getting it from you, too. He’s family, and if he needs our help to get back into our lives, I’m going to fucking help.”

I yank open the door right as the server comes around with our drinks. I don’t care. I’m not hungry anymore. I step onto the slushy sidewalk, shoving my hands into my pockets, tucking my chin into the collar of my sweater. My coat is still inside, but whatever. A woman walks by me with her dog, and the dog tries to say hello; I bare my teeth at him as the woman pulls him away.

Fuck, my stomach hurts.

The bell on the door rings as Uncle Blake steps out a moment later. We’re about the same height, so we stand shoulder to shoulder. I don’t want to glance back and see Seb and Izzy in the restaurant, but I can’t help myself. Izzy looks upset, and Seb is rubbing her back. Shit. I feel bad, but it’s not my fault if they don’t understand how important this is to me.

“I don’t want to do this,” Uncle Blake says after a long, quiet moment. “But if I could just get some help with the debts, then it’ll be easier for me to get set up here. You have your trust fund now, right?”

I gained access to it the moment I turned twenty-one. “Yeah.”

He nods. “Good. That’s good.” His face twists up as he huffs out a broken little laugh. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “This is pathetic. But if I could have some help, I can pay you back. Your father isn’t the only one with connections. I could find you a better agent, someone who will do what’s best for you, not what’s best for your father.”

I blink. “But… Jessica is going to be my agent. We’ll have our own relationship.”

Uncle Blake raises his eyebrows. “You sure about that? Sure your father isn’t going to try to control the whole thing? You told me about how he handled things with your brother. It’s in his nature, Cooper. It’s like I said, he’s one kind of person. James, too. Then there are people like us. Don’t you want to forge your own path?”

It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and Uncle Blake is the only one to ever recognize that. Who took me to the rink for the first time? Who taught me how to hold a hockey stick? Maybe he is right, we’ve always been different. Not just second sons, but in a different category entirely. Maybe if I truly want the future I’ve always dreamed of, I need to distance myself. I’ve worked my ass off to get here, and nothing that I do will ever compete with James. From the moment I chose hockey, I lost my father’s interest.

But I can help Uncle Blake. I can make a new relationship. He’s not my dad, but he’s family, and he sees the real me.

“How much do you need?”