Fine. From a technical standpoint, no one is related, okay. You fucking got me.
But we’re not talking about technicalities here.
This is the man who fucking paid others to raise me. The man I resented my whole life for always being busy and never having time for me. The man who was always wrapped up in his life and viewed me as an accessory to trot out to make him look good by talking about how he was raising the son of his dead wife.
In short, he’s the only father I’ve ever fucking known.
And so what do I do? I fuck the one woman who maybe he thought he would find happiness with? Really? Is that what I’ve come down to?
Have I fucked so many women in my life that now I need to do things that shock the senses? Has normal fucking just gotten too boring for me?
“You going to stand there or are you going to come in, Lance?” dad asks from his desk. He's staring at me, an annoyed look on his face. He’s got two tablets and a computer open in front of him and it’s obvious he’s busy. The television is on in the far corner of the room and he puts it on mute.
I step into the office and walk to the desk. What am I even going to say here? Hey dad, how’s the mayoral race coming? By the way, I’m fucking Jocelyn. Just thinking you should know because it's the right thing to do.
How do you even go about telling another man you’re sleeping with his wife?
“What do you need?” dad asks, cutting through all the clutter in my head and going straight to the point. “I’m busy so I can’t give you that much time. So be quick.”
I sigh. He looks at me with sharp eyes.
“I wanted to talk to you about Jocelyn,” I say after a moment.
He looks at me and sighs as well. Does he know?
Dad leans back in his chair. “Sorry I didn't invite you to the wedding, Lance,” he says and takes off his glasses. “But there really was no wedding.”
“Yeah, but you know, there wasn’t even any advance notice,” I reply back to him.
Dad looks at me for a moment. “Lance, you’ve been here for quite a few days now and you’re just coming to me with this question?” he asks. “What’s prompting you to ask now? If you were really this upset about not knowing, this would have been the first thing you asked me.”
What the fuck? Leave it to this guy to search for the ulterior motive.
Although, to be honest, don’t I have the ulterior motive here? I mean, I’m making this conversation because I feel guilty about Jocelyn. He’s right to an extent.
“I’m just asking you because it seemed like a good way to get into the conversation,” I tell him, trying to appear nonchalant. “It’s not like we’ve gotten much time to talk since I got back.”
He appears to consider this.
“But I mean, that’s the usual, though, isn’t it?” I ask, adding that one last bit in.
It seems to convince him that I’m legitimate. He sits back upright and places his elbows on the desk.
“I knew her father. You were away at school and you’re old enough now that you’re not really much of an asset to someone who’s looking to portray being a family man. Plus, your…antics aren’t really going to endear any of the demographics I need help with. And the only grandkids I’d have would all be illegitimate. So I n
eeded a wife.”
I’m silent, processing everything he’s just said. It sounds so cold. So fucking calculating.
“So just like that, you what? Introduced yourself and got her to say yes?” I ask him.
Dad sighs again, as if stalling for time.
“Let’s just say,” he says and pauses, considering his words. “Let’s just say it was in the best interests of Governor Carter to give me Jocelyn’s hand in marriage.”
Whoa. What the fuck is dad just telling me right here. Best interests?
“Wait one second,” I say, forgetting the guilt for a moment. “Best interests of the Governor? Are you telling me this is some sort of payment?”