Between the Lies

4| Secret

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Secret

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Chapter 4: Secret (Aaron's POV)

"What about you, Aaron?" Dad asked.

Now, after nearly forty-five minutes of eating with me. Now, he's finally found the time to turn his attention from his older son to his younger one. How nice.

"What about me?" I shrugged, pushing my empty plate away.

"How's work at that little publishing firm coming along?"

I rolled my eyes, glancing at Nick who hid his chuckle behind his glass of wine. "My work? At New York's biggest publishing firm?" I feigned confusion. "It's going great, considering our annual revenue is more than yours." I lifted a brow.

"That's good for the company, Aaron but it does you no good at all. You're an employee," he sighed, "nothing else."

"Noted," I mumbled, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Nick questioned.

"I'm done eating so I'm leaving. Isn't that why you invite me to this weekly dinner? To eat? Because if you wanted to talk to me, you would during the forty-five minutes I spent here."

"We were talking about work," Dad chuckled.

"Like you do every single day," I nodded, tucking my hands into my pockets. I shook my head slightly, looking at my father. "When are you going to cut it out?"

"Aaron, don't bring up the past again, man," Nick scolded.

I ignored him, obviously. "I'm heading home."

He finished the rest of his drink. "I think you should find a new place to stay, don't you, Nick?"

Nick nodded in agreement.

"I'm more than comfortable in my apartment, thank you for your concern." I pushed the chair back in and then left, ignoring their calls and goodbyes. I walked out of the dining room, rolling my eyes and cursing under my breath.

"Aaron." I stopped as our housekeeper, Ms. Josie, who used to be my nanny as I grew up, came rushing over with a bag in her hands. "Here. I saved some for you to take home," she smiled.

I took the bag from her. "You really didn't have to, Ms. Josie."

She patted my arm. "No big deal, kiddo. Drive safe, hmm? Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I gave her a quick hug and then left, starting my car and driving past the metal gates as security held them open.

It's safe to say I don't get along with my father and older brother. You'd think I would since I grew up right here with them. My mother was never actually here but she would visit once a year after my parents got a divorce when I was five years old. My mom left for the better but she left me behind and she knows it. She says she regrets it.

But I don't. Because the times I spent with her during her visits, the summers she took me to Paris with her, the months I spent traveling with her while she worked as a fashion designer... Those memories are some of the best I have. Her teaching me French, her native language, taking me to watch the fashion shows where her work was displayed and modeled, taking me ice skating. And then all those fun summers would come to an end and she'd drop me back home, leaving me with my dad and brother.