At Long Last

would change nothing. It was over and he hated himself for caring so damn much.
    He straightened and began walking. He made it to his car, but once inside he just sat there, leaning against the steering wheel letting the wracking sobs out. His vision was too blurred by tears to drive so he just let himself cry it out.
    Somewhere in the back of his surely feeble mind he still hoped Preston would come running out from his house, taking what he'd said back. Telling Scotty he was sorry for thinking him abnormal. But no matter how hard he stared at the front door, it didn't happen.
    "Fucking idiot," he yelled. "You're just a fucking idiot."
    He'd done this. He'd allowed himself to ignore all the bothersome signs Preston had been giving him. Allowed the love he had already felt for Preston to deepen further. And now that it was over he had no one to blame but himself.
    He was crying like a baby.
    Finally exhausted from his tears, he rested his head against the steering wheel for several minutes more. He didn't know how long. Oddly his stomach gurgled, reminding him he'd never had the chance to eat the greasy fried chicken.
    Scotty turned the key in the ignition, started the car, and drove away from the man he loved.

Chapter 9
----
     
    Over the weekend Scotty had decided he would have to quit his job. There was no way he could face Preston every day. Not now. Maybe in another ten years when he'd somehow gotten over him and found a new man to love. Hopefully one who loved Scotty, too.
    He stood outside Kenneth Trask's office door absolutely dreading the conversation about to take place. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he thought. His father had mellowed over the years and even accepted his being gay. Eventually.
    It was just...well, he had a feeling his father hadn't wanted to give him the job in the first place. He'd hated even asking, but he needed someone to give him a chance.
    His semi-retired father only worked three days a week now. Monday being one of them. He tapped lightly on the door.
    "Come in," a deep authoritative voice called.
    Scotty was nine years old again. Afraid to face his father after breaking his trophy in the family den. He twisted the knob and plastered what he hoped was a casual smile on his face.
    "Hey, Dad."
    "Scotty, I was just thinking about you." His father smiled. Scotty's older brother, Jack, resembled their father more than he did, but there was no getting past the fact the family all looked alike. His father gestured to the big plush chair in front of his desk. Even though he only worked part-time now, his father was impeccably dressed in a black suit with a pale yellow dress shirt and tie.
    "Uh, you were thinking about me?"
    His father nodded. "I've been going over your accounting and investigative work and I have to say I'm impressed."
    "Thanks, Dad." Scotty let himself bask in the feel-good glow of his father's approval. He'd so rarely had it, surely it couldn't be so terrible for him to enjoy a bit of it now and then. "About the job," he said slowly, carefully.
    "You're not going to ask me for a raise already, are you?" the old man grinned. He picked up a mug of coffee he'd had on the desk and took a large sip.
    "What? Oh, no, sir."
    "Now, now, don't dismiss it so easily. We can talk about it."
    Scotty swallowed, realizing this was going to be harder than he'd actually thought. And he'd thought it would be hard.
    "What kind of money are we talking about?" His father was in business-mode. Negotiating with a cool smile.
    "Dad, I don't want a raise," Scotty said. "Actually, I've come to give you my resignation."
    His father's smile faded with lightning speed. His blue eyes turned glacial. "Your...resignation?"
    Scotty nodded. "I know this is a surprise."
    His father laughed a short, barking sound. He wrinkled his nose. "No. It's not a surprise at all. I should have expected this."
    He frowned. "Expected it?"
    "I told your mother offering you a job at my firm would be a big mistake, but your mother insisted. I knew it in my gut."
    Dreading the answer, Scotty forced himself to ask, "Knew?"
    "That you were nothing but a worthless screw-up. You always have been. I didn't think you'd be any different now." His father shook his head. "For a minute there when I looked at your work I thought maybe you had changed after all. But you haven't."
    His heart rose in his throat and then dropped like lead into his stomach. "Dad, that's not true. I'm not a screw-up."
    "Yeah, sure, Scotty. Whatever. You