The Bad Boy's Dirty Little Secret BL Chapter 103: The Irony of Jonathan Winters

Kai’s P.O.V

I sat there, the room seeming to spin as my father’s words sank in, reshaping everything I thought I understood about Jonathan Winters. This man, who’d become a giant monster in my life, who had practically disowned his son for being himself…had once loved another man deeply.

And yet, somewhere along the line, that love had twisted into bitterness, that grief into hatred.

“How could he…?” I muttered, almost to myself, my voice heavy with disbelief. “How could someone who’d loved another man so much, who’d lost so painfully, turn around and become so… so disgusted by his own son?”

My father sighed. “Grief changes people, Kai,” he said softly. “You have to understand, see it in his perspective, that sometimes it turns them into something they don’t even recognize. Jonathan may have loved Matthias, but he was also crushed by the loss. I think, in some twisted way, he blames himself for what happened and has spent years trying to erase that pain any way he can… even if that means erasing any reminder of what he once had.”

The irony was almost too much to bear. Here was a man who’d sacrificed so much to protect the one he loved, who’d been broken by the weight of that loss.

And now he was destroying his son in the name of his own misguided pain. And Night, caught in the crossfire, paying the price for wounds that had nothing to do with him.

“When Matthias died… it destroyed him,” my dad said. “He went into a kind of grief that consumed everything. He stopped talking, shut himself away. He wore black every day, like a constant reminder of what he’d lost.”

I could hardly picture it—the Jonathan Winters I knew, cold and unyielding, brought so low that he couldn’t even face the world.

“It took a long time and a lot of therapy just to get him back on his feet,” my father continued. “His therapist worked with him for over a year, trying to reach him, to get him to open up again. But after about a year, Jonathan just… vanished. He stopped coming to the hospital, cut off from everyone who knew him during that time. I never saw him again. It was as if he wanted to erase everything connected to Matthias’s death. For years, I wondered what became of him, but life moved on. I thought that chapter was closed.”

He paused, his fingers tapping against his knee in a steady rhythm. “When I first heard Night’s last name, I thought it was just an odd coincidence. I couldn’t believe it was the same Jonathan Winters. After so much time, I assumed he’d moved far away, started a new life. I never expected…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, looking at me with a pained expression.

“And then you saw him again tonight,” I said, a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me.

“Tonight, seeing him again… it was unsettling,” he admitted. “Seeing him there, with that look of pure horror… It brought back all those memories. But there’s something more to this. I’m starting to think that maybe Jonathan wasn’t able to let go of his past. Not completely.

“Jonathan shut his heart down after Matthias’s death, that much was clear. But seeing all this now, I wonder if he ever really recovered from the trauma. He wasn’t just grieving, Kai; he was broken by it. Losing Matthias left scars he couldn’t heal, and I think… he’s spent all these years hiding those scars instead of facing them.”

I took in my father’s words, realizing with a start what he was trying to say. “So, you’re saying he’s not just being cruel to Night… he’s trying to protect him? From what he went through?”

Was this some kind of twisted way that Jonathan was hoping to protect his own son from a similar fate? I couldn’t tell, but slowly…things were starting to make some kind of twisted sense.

My father nodded. “It’s possible. Maybe, in his mind, he thinks he’s keeping Night safe from the heartbreak and agony he himself endured. But instead of healing, Jonathan has let his fear take over, consuming every choice he’s made regarding his son.”

The picture of Jonathan started to shift in my mind—not as the villain I’d thought, but as a man trapped in his own past, unable to find peace. And yet, it didn’t excuse his actions, or the pain he’d caused Night.

I clenched my fists, frustration simmering under my skin. “But I’m not going to hurt Night, Dad. I would never even dream of it. Jonathan’s the one doing the hurting here. Why can’t he see that? How does he not understand that he’s driving his son away by trying to force him into a life he doesn’t want?”

My father shrugged with another sad sigh. He seemed to be sighing a lot tonight; the whole ordeal with Jonathan must have really saddened him all those years ago.

“The brain works in mysterious ways, Kai. Trauma can distort someone’s sense of reality, twist the simplest intentions. Jonathan may have convinced himself that keeping Night from being with another man is somehow sparing him from what he went through. He’s still fighting the ghost of his past, Kai, and in his mind, keeping Night ‘safe’ means controlling his choices, even if it’s misguided.”

I shook my head, unable to fully grasp how love and protection could transform into such harsh measures.

But a part of me understood. Jonathan’s love, fractured by grief, had calcified, becoming a rigid, unyielding thing.

And now that brittle armor wasn’t just protecting Jonathan’s heart; it was wounding Night’s. I can’t let that keep happening; I have to do something.

I rose to my feet. “I have to talk to him,” I said, my voice firm.

My father looked up. He was worried but not surprised. “Kai, please… think this through. Jonathan isn’t the same person he was all those years ago, and confronting him now might do more harm than good. I know you’re doing this because you care about Night, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “But I have to try, Dad. Jonathan deserves to know that I’m not just going to disappear from Night’s life like Matthias did for him. I won’t be another ghost haunting his son’s past.”

My father opened his mouth to argue but then stopped, searching my face. I stared right back at him, determined.

Finally, he gave a small, reluctant nod, as if he understood that this was a battle I needed to fight—not just for me, but for Night as well.

“Go,” he finally said. “I wish you luck, my son. If anyone can break through Jonathan’s armor…it just might be you.”

I didn’t need any other confirmations as I dashed out the door.