Having no one at all would be much more preferable, but I can try to tolerate someone other than this insolent tool.
Who am I kidding? I won’t. But I can convince her and her mother that I would. Under certain circumstances.
“Jeremy makes me the best version of myself. He cares about my well-being, makes sure my comfort comes before his, built me a bookshelf in his house and filled it with my mangas, and even lets me sleep on his lap. So no, I don’t want someone better.”
“Wait. Go back. He lets you sleep on his lap, as in, you spend nights with him. As in, with him?”
Her face turns a deep shape of red, and a sense of nausea mounts in my chest. The thought that my little girl has already grown up so much that she does that stuff is enough to give me a midlife crisis.
Yes, I’ve thought about this moment countless times since she was born, but reality is a very different beast.
That’s it. I’m going to kill the motherfucker.
Cecily opens her mouth, and I hold up a hand. “Don’t answer that question.”
My daughter wraps her arms around my waist and lays her chin on my shoulder, as if knowing the exact type of distress I’m going through.
“I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’d mean so much to me if you would.” She nuzzles her nose in my shoulder. “No matter what, you’ll always be my number one hero. No one will ever take your place, Papa.”
I groan when she bats her lashes at me. I swear she’s doing this on purpose, knowing exactly how I’d rather gut myself open than hurt her.
So despite my murder plans, I force myself to not glare at the bastard too much. At least not when Kim and Cecily are looking.
By the time we sit down for dinner, I’ve cooled down. But only a bit and just enough to change tactics about shaking the pest away and removing whatever rosy binoculars my wife is looking at him with.
I take a bite of my steak and stare at him. I made sure my wife and daughter are on my right while he’s all alone on my left.
“How old are you, Jeremy?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Aren’t you too old for university?”
“He’s finishing his master’s degree and getting his PhD, Papa,” Cecily answers on his behalf. “Like Eli.”
I don’t cut eye contact with him. “What do you study?”
“Business.”
“What do you plan to do after university?”
“Take over the family business.”
“Which is?”
It’s subtle, but I feel Cecily’s posture stiffen beside her mother before she beams at me. “Do you want wine?”
“I don’t drink, remember?”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
I narrow my eyes on her, and she lowers her head. Something’s fishy. Cecily knows I stopped drinking way before she was born. I did sometimes in the past, on special occasions, and only when my wife was holding my hand, but I stopped drinking altogether years ago.
My attention falls on Jeremy, who’s wearing his blank expression like a second skin.
“What did you say your family business was?”
“I still didn’t say.”
“Go on then. Get on with it.”
“My father is one of the biggest shareholders in a corporation. We have countless subsidiaries in every field, including but not limited to imports and exports, electronics, medical research, cars, and investment.”
Cecily slowly relaxes, and Kim smiles. “That sounds huge.”
“It is. As my father’s heir, I’m expected to take over those responsibilities sooner rather than later.”
“But you’re still so young,” Kim says. “Don’t you want to live your life first?”
“Age is just a number. I’ve been ready to serve this role since I was a child.”
My wife strokes our daughter’s hand. “Cecy has also wanted to enter the field of psychology since she was a kid. She said she wanted to be able to listen properly to those who have no one who listens to them and to be able to give them the help they need but don’t know how to ask for. I guess being responsible is something both of you have in common.”
“I know.” He stares at my daughter, whose eyes glitter at her mother’s words. “She listened to me like no one else has.”
Cecily lifts her head and they maintain eye contact for a disgusting amount of time before I slam my glass of water on the table.
“You’re just shamelessly exploiting my daughter, aren’t you?”