Chapter 333: The Boyfriend Has Logged In

"Of course, Frank."

"First off, you’ll need to call me regularly. I refuse to be one of those dads who learns about his son’s life from social media. Second, if I don’t hear from Oliver for more than three days, I’ll start leaving melodramatic voicemails until one of you picks up."

Damien nodded, looking serious. "That sounds fair."

"I can even cry on the phone if it helps."

"I have no doubt about that."

"And I know where the city is, so don’t think I won’t come visit."

At that, Damien smiled and gave Dad’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You’re always welcome whenever you want."

Dad’s expression softened. For a moment, we all sat together in the afternoon light, surrounded by the familiar sounds of home and the comforting thought that I didn’t have to choose between loving my father and building a future with Damien. It finally felt like I could have both.

The next few days went by in a whirlwind of packing boxes, phone calls, and debates over how many books I should take with me to the city.

According to Damien, that number was apparently less than what I’d accumulated during my university years.

To me, he was just a wealthy guy who didn’t grasp the sentimental value of my academic books.

"You have three copies of the same psychology textbook," Damien remarked one afternoon, holding up a hefty volume while I sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor, surrounded by clothes and books.

"They’re different editions."

"But they have the same title."

"That’s because they cover the same topic, Damien. That’s just how books work."

He flipped the books over, concentrating on their publication dates like a detective on a case. "One came out four years ago, another two years ago, and this one last year."

"Exactly! So they’re not identical."

"Are you planning to teach a whole course with outdated material?"

I snatched the books from his hands. "Are you planning to keep breathing if you keep critiquing my damn stuff?"

His mouth twitched as he crouched next to the suitcase. "I’m just trying to figure out why the hell you need three textbooks when the latest edition has most of the info from the others."

"Because the old editions have my annotations in them."

"Your notes?"

"Some of them."

He opened the first book and scanned the margins, where I’d underlined several passages and scribbled some comments, increasingly messy as the semester wore on. One note read: This theory is fascinating, but whoever thought it up clearly needed a nap and maybe a hug.

Damien looked at me.

I met his gaze.

"That’s valuable academic insight," I declared.

"I see that, nerd."

"Look who the hell is calling me nerd, nerd! Students deserve to know that even the greatest minds in psychology had their off days."

"Of course, angel." He carefully placed the book in the suitcase.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You’re making fun of me."

"I’m supporting your career."

"You’re supporting it by letting me keep all three books?"

"I’m supporting your career by not buying the university and declaring you its sole psychology authority."

I pointed at him. "We’ve already talked about this. You’re not buying my workplace!"

"I remember."

"Thanks. It’s crucial we set boundaries from the start."

He leaned in and kissed me, a tactical move but a successful one. I allowed it because I was a reasonable person who understood that some disagreements were better settled through compromise.

Unfortunately, packing wasn’t our only priority. Dad’s recovery went so well that he didn’t require the high level of assistance he once did, but Damien and I still wanted to ensure he had proper support while we were gone.

Damien had already set up a conversation with Dad’s medical team about follow-up appointments and physical therapy, promising that any arrangements would align with what Dad wanted and not just what Damien’s finances could conveniently cover.

During one of those talks, Damien brought up the idea of Dad staying in his private island.

We were in the living room, discussing Dad’s upcoming appointments and the possibility of arranging help with heavier household chores when Damien mentioned that his island property was fully staffed and could provide medical support if needed.

"I could set it up for you to stay there for a bit," he told Dad. "The staff could assist with anything you need, and we’d ensure your appointments and therapy kept on schedule. There’s plenty of space, and it’s right near the water."

Dad stared at him, then slowly turned to look at me. "Oliver."

I already recognized that look. "Dad, whatever you’re about to say, just remember I’m still your favorite son."

"You’re my only son."

"Which makes the competition pretty easy."

Ignoring me, he focused back on Damien. "You mean your private island? The one with the marine research facilities nearby you told me about a few days ago?"

Damien nodded. "There’s a marine biology center not far from the property, and I recall Oliver mentioning how much you love learning about the ocean. I thought you’d enjoy having a peaceful place to recover, especially while we’re settling into the city."

For a moment, Dad seemed at a loss for words. Seeing him sitting there, eyes bright and hands resting on his cane, made my chest tighten.

"You remembered that?" I asked quietly.

Damien’s expression softened. "Of course."

Dad spent years talking my poor ears half to death about the ocean, marine ecosystems, and the amazing creatures under the sea, often dragging me into documentaries I pretended to despise but secretly enjoyed. He’d always dreamed of being closer to the water, but his illness and our financial struggles limited those dreams to occasional beach visits whenever I could spare a few hours as I was growing up.

I had a vague memory of me telling Damien just that years ago when he kidnappe--sorry, I mean took me to his private island for winter break.

The thought of him having a beautiful place to recover, with the ocean nearby and help when he needed it, felt almost too good to be true.

"That sounds incredible," Dad finally said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what to say."

"You could just say yes," Damien suggested gently.

Dad laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, then gave Damien a look that was suspiciously close to the one he gave me when I tried to dodge doing the dishes. "Yes, absolutely yes! It’s a dream come true! But I expect you to visit, and I expect Oliver to call often enough that I don’t have to resort to emotional blackmail."

"I’ll visit whenever I can," Damien promised. "And I’ll make sure he calls."

I turned to him. "I’m right here."

"I know, Sunshine."

"You can’t just volunteer me for regular phone calls."

Dad smiled sweetly. "I raised you. I know all your emotional weaknesses."

"Great. I’m moving to the city, and somehow I’m still getting bullied in my own home."

But despite my complaints, I couldn’t stop smiling. The plans we were making were starting to feel real in a way that our earlier discussions hadn’t.

Damien wasn’t just asking me to join him anymore; he was making room for my life, for my father, and for everything that mattered to me. He was looking forward to a future where I would be by his side.

And I was finally letting myself believe that could be true.

When I told our friends the news, their reactions were just what you’d expect from people who watched me suffer through years of romantic struggles, from Joy’s Cafe to Crestview Bay.

The group chat exploded within minutes of my announcement.

Maya ??: YOU’RE MOVING TO THE CITY???

Joey??: WAIT. WITH DAMIEN???

Maya??: I FUCKING KNEW IT.

Joey??: YOU DID NOT KNOW IT. YOU SAID HE WAS GOING TO GET HIMSELF THROWN OFF A BRIDGE IF HE KEPT ACTING LIKE THAT.

Maya??: BOTH THINGS CAN BE TRUE.

Connor: Congrats, Oliver. I’m really happy for you. Does this mean Damien has finally stopped looking at me like I’m a suspicious package at an airport?

Damien????: No.

I stared at my screen in disbelief.

Me: WHY ARE YOU IN THIS CHAT?

Damien????: You left your phone unlocked.

Joey??: HE’S ALREADY MOVING IN SPIRITUALLY. welcome onboard, in-law!

Maya??: Oliver, blink twice if you need us to set up an intervention.

Me: I AM GOING TO BLOCK ALL OF YOU.

Connor: I’m glad you’re getting your happy ending. Just remember, if you ever need a friend to talk to, I’m still here.

I smiled at that, feeling grateful that Connor understood what Damien and I were trying to create without complicating things further.

Me: Thank you. I’ll miss you too, Connor.

Connor: That’s the affection I expect from you.

Damien????: He’s also very affectionate with me.

Me: I AM GOING TO THROW MY PHONE INTO THE OCEAN.

Maya??: Please don’t. I’m not buying you another one.

A few days later, Maya and Joey came over to help with the final touches, but their idea of helping involved sitting on my bed, munching on the snacks I’d bought for the trip, and offering completely unnecessary opinions about my relationship.

Maya hugged me tightly as soon as she got there, and when she pulled back, her expression had softened in a way that showed she was trying hard not to get emotional.

"I’m really happy for you," she said. "I know I was tough on Damien when he came back, and I’m still going to keep an eye on him because I remember how those years affected you. But I can tell you’re happy with him now, and I want you to embrace that happiness."

My throat tightened again as I pulled her into another hug. "Thank you."

"Besides," she added, wiping her eyes before ruining the moment, "if he hurts you, I know people who can make his life very difficult."

Joey nodded solemnly. "I know people too."

I glanced between them. "You both look like you’d apologize to a waiter for returning a cold cup of coffee."

"We can be surprisingly intimidating," Joey argued.