Chapter 33

Carlos understood Reggie was in desperate need. He sidled through the crowd like cat. Before Wilson could reach for the winner, Carlos pulled Reggie into his arms and gave him a suffocating hug. “Come here, son.”

Reggie sank his head onto his caddie’s shoulder, letting all his defenses go and allowing his tears to fall.

“I love him, Carl,” he murmured, sobbing. “I can’t imagine him not in my life.”

The man squeezed him even harder, took off his cap, and smoothed down his sweaty hair.

“I know, I know. Take courage now—everyone’s for you.”

Reggie stepped back, nodding and sniffing. He knew people would interpret his crying as happiness at his win. And if not…well, fuck it. He put on his hat again and turned to Wilson, offering his best fake smile.

“You’ve been amazing, Mr. Weston,” the director said, delighted. “A perfect day.” He moved in close and held out his hand.

Sure, if you can define “perfect” as getting your heart crushed.