Goaded, Jasper said, “Actually, yes. He was very kind to me when my mother threw me out.”
“Kind?” Mark was hurt and angry. “What kind of ‘kind’?”
Very quietly, his voice close to breaking, Jasper admitted, “We fucked.”
“Fuck!” Mark was yelling. “You bastard!”
“I was... desperate. My mother...
“Desperate!” Mark’s scorn was palpable.
“I’m sorry.” Jasper was unable to meet their eyes. He’d failed them. He’d fucked up. He was going to lose everything. He’d thought he’d at last be happy, that’d he’d found a new family, one that would love him and keep him close. A single tear dripped from his bent head onto the table.
“Why didn’t you come home to me for ‘comfort’?” asked Mark, no longer angry, just shocked and sorrowful. The tear had shaken him. He wanted to take Jasper into his arms and hug him. He wanted to make it better. But he was hurt and angry himself.
Almost in a whisper, Jasper replied, “You were at Fiona’s”
“Oh, God!” said Mark. “Oh fuckin’ hell! Jas, I’m so sorry.”